Accidental Spy
by BookQ36
Summary: ENT 1.4 Take one part friendship and one part alien politics. Add the usual kind of 'luck' which the crew of the NX-01 has on away missions and bring to a boil. Set in season 1 pre "Cold Front"
1. Prologue

A/N: So, after letting this story sit dormant for two years, I'm finally overhauling it. I've been editing it on and off on my PC but until now the updates haven't been uploaded here. Please read and review, I'm anxious to hear what people have to say about this story! I started writing it in 2006 (when I was still in highschool) and I only figured out how to end it this year. That'll teach me to write without an outline... Reconciling the changes in my writing style over the five intervening years was less daunting that I'd thought it would be, but with no Beta, the process has been _slooow. _

Anyway, enjoy!

~BookQ

* * *

1

Ship's Armory, F Deck, 1320 hours, August 16 2151

"No, no, no, Ensign." Lieutenant Reed sighed, shaking his head at the young woman standing in front of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, praying that he would be able to get through this training session without biting Jean's head off. She had asked him to train her in the proper use of their new side arms, the phase pistols, and he had been glad to do it. She was always an eager and quick student, but so far her usual aptitude for learning about the weapons systems had been oddly absent.

"I specifically instructed you to set the weapon to 'stun', but you had it on 'kill'. If those had been live rounds, Mr. Tucker and a repair team would need to spend a day down here replacing those shelving units."

Jean stared at the floor and tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear, shifting uncomfortably under her friend's disapproving gaze. "I'm sorry, sir."

Reed let out anouther breath, sounding less frustrated but still very unhappy. "You can drop the 'sir', Jean, I just want you to learn the proper way to use these weapons. You don't want to end up killing someone by mistake, do you?"

She looked up at him, chewing on her lip nervously. "No, of course not. I just… I'm having trouble remembering which setting is which."

Reed nodded, taking the pistol from her. She watched very closely as he opened it, checking the charge on the powercell, and then closed it again, setting the small knob on the weapon to point away from the end of the barrel.

"Alright, Jean, I've set it to stun. Lets try this again."

He handed the weapon back to her and she took it sheepishly, not meeting his gaze for too long.

"I don't know what's wrong with me today." She shrugged, sighting along the snubbed barrel of the pistol. "Maybe I've used up all the space in my head that's reserved for weapons and tactics."

Reed shook his head, smiling at her and admiring her firing stance. "Nonsense. You're just having an off day. It happens to the best of us."

She lowered the weapon slightly and grinned back at him, an evil glint in her eye. "At least we're not in a pod on the bottom of an alien lake."

He paused in the middle of activating the hovering holo-target to let his head drop back and emit a quiet groan. "That was no simple 'off day'. That was a disaster."

Jean chuckled. "But you came through." She stepped a bit closer to him, allowing the weapon to point at the floor so she wouldn't shoot him by accident, and tentatively rested a hand on his arm. "I've never been prouder of you."

Reed turned around partway to face her. She was standing mere inches away, her hand still softly grasping his arm. His breath caught for a moment, but before he could speak, a voice rang out from the comm. panel.

"_Archer to Lieutenant Reed_."

He swallowed, shooting her an apologetic look before reaching for the comm. "Reed here."

"We've just detected a planet along our present course, and we should be within scanning range by aproximately 1800 hours tonight. Since there may be sentient life and man-made satelites in the vicinity, I'd like you to come up to the bridge to monitor any vessels we might come across."

Reed nodded at the comm. panel, even though part of him knew that doing it was a useless gesture. After all, the captain could only hear and not see him. "Understood sir. On my way."

He closed the channel and turned back to Jean, regretting that the lesson and their brief moment of closeness had been cut short. "Would you mind if we rescheduled this for another time?"

She favored him with a grin, tapping a finger on her chin in mock-thoughtfulness. "I don't know, sir. My schedule is pretty full…"

He tried not to smirk at the gentle ribbing but couldn't help himself. "You are being awfully cheeky to your superior officer, _Ensign._"

Jean moved over to the weapons cabinet, removing the powercell from the pistol and putting both components away in their proper places. "My superior by virtue of rank, if nothing else."

Reed chuckled at the quote, shaking his head as he put away the holo-emitter. "I'll see you for a late dinner in the mess, say around 2100?"

"Sounds good," she nodded. "I'll see you then."

* * *

Bridge, A Deck, 1730 hours, August 16, 2151

T'pol looked up from her instruments. "It appears to be a Minshara class planet."

The captain swiveled his chair towards her, a large smile spreading across his face. "Lifesigns?"

T'pol inclined her head in confirmation. "Approximately 530 million."

Reed's hands flew over his console, adjusting various screens and taking note of scanner inputs. "There are a fair number of spacecraft and artificial satelites in orbit, but none of them have weapons which could do _Enterprise_ any harm."

Archer inched forward to the edge of his chair, eyes dancing with delight. "What kind of transmissions are you picking up, Hoshi?"

The young comm. officer held one hand to her earpiece, a pleased smile steadily growing on her face. "Highband EM frequencies," her eyes went wide as she tied in the UT and one word suddenly translated into English. She turned to face the captain, blinking rapidly. "They're discussing warp technology."

Reed frowned slightly. "Odd…"

"What is it, Mr. Reed? Some kind of problem?" Archer sighed to himself, not terribly surprised that his Tactical Officer had found something to be concerned about.

"Oh," Reed looked up from his muttering, quickly shaking his head to dispell the captain's concern. "Nothing like that, sir, but I'm not detecting any launch platforms in orbit, and none of the ships within scanning range appear to have more than impulse drives."

Archer's brow furrowed. "That is odd."

He glanced across the bridge to where Sub-commander T'pol was checking her own readings. "My scans confirm Lieutenant Reed's findings." She looked up at the captain. "Based on the information I have gathered, I suspect that this civilization is in the process of deveolping warp drive. The energy signatures which I'm detecting indicate that they have the technology to contain and utilize anti-matter in small quantities… not unlike the amounts which would have been available on Earth shortly before Zephram Cochran launced the Phoenix."

Archer stood up, pacing forward to get a better look at the viewscreen. "Still, it would probably be better if we didn't announce ourselves." He spared a glance at Sub-commander T'pol. "Let's try to avoid cultural contamination. We'll send down a team of four; myself, Trip, and Malcolm. Mr. Reed, notify the quartermaster that we'll be needing four sets of clothing by morning. We'll pick them up first thing tomorrow, and then head down to Sickbay so Phlox can disguise the team as locals. Once you get to the launch bay, prep a shuttle pod."

Reed nodded, a smile creeping onto his face as an idea occurred to him. "With your permission, sir, I'd like to recommend Ensign Olenick for this mission."

The captain nodded, smiling a little. The fact that Reed and the ensign were close hadn't escaped him, and he idly wondered if she had put Reed up to making his recommendation. "Sounds reasonable. Besides, since we seem to be needing a medical officer more and more on our missions, she'll be good to have along. Just in case."

Beta shift took over bridge duties at 2000 hours, but Hoshi stayed on the bridge, fascinated by the myriad alien dialects the transciever was picking up. Every so often, she would press a hand to her earpiece, smile or take a sharp breath, and then hit a few buttons and repeat the process. T'pol stayed as well, dutifully performing detailed scans of the planet. Once Travis had put them into a high but stable orbit, the captain gave him permission to grab some dinner in the mess. Reed left his station soon after that, also with permission. Although his shift was over for the day, he might come back up to the bridge at some point, just to see if any new developments had come to light. The door to the turbo lift closed behind him and Reed grinned to himself as he hit the button which would take him to E Deck, which housed the mess hall. He couldn't wait to tell Jean the good news.


	2. Routine Excitement

2

Launch Bay One, F Deck, 0930 hours, August 16 2151

"So, what do you think?" She twirled on the narrow metal catwalk, creating a breeze which gently lifted her skirt into the air and caused the fabric to flare and spread out.

She was wearing a cream-colored bodice which laced up in front, revealing the pale green of her loose tunic between the laces. The tunic's sleeves flowed down to just past her elbows, ending in soft furls of fabric which brushed against her skin whenever she moved, and she had a dark green cloak hanging down from her shoulders. Her skirt was floor length, a deep wine color and some parts of the fabric were translucent, revealing the curve of her legs.

But the skirt wasn't what the men reacted to. Their attention was focused on her bodice; more specifically, on the fact that it was rather low cut and revealed a good four centimeters of cleavage.

Trip's jaw practically hit the deck plating and he was speechless for a while, but it only took Reed a few moments to find his voice. "You look... amazing."

A grin splashed across her face. "Thank, sir. You look pretty good yourself."

He did, too. Reed had on fairly loose brown pants, a leather belt and a red tunic which laced up slightly at the neck, as well as a hooded burgundy cloak. Trip was wearing the same basic outfit as Reed but his tunic was pale blue, his cloak was dark bluish green, and a leather strap was fastened diagonally across his chest from one shoulder to his belt. Both of them looked very good, almost like they belonged at some slightly off renaissance fair.

When Trip finally spoke, it wasn't what she had hoped to hear. "Are y' sure dressin' like that is such a good idea?"

She gave him an annoyed look and put one hand on her hip, taking the liberty to tut him in a disapproving way.

"You were expecting me to dress like a nun? Sir, you should know me better than that by now."

Trip looked over to Reed for support. "Well, Ensign, it might cause some complications... "

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Captain Archer came into the launch bay wearing a purple-gray tunic, the same type of brown pants as the other men, and his cloak was a dark grey. There was a knowing expression on his face and Trip could tell that he was holding back a big grin.

The Captain loved exploring new planets and, even though it was silly, he and the rest of the crew enjoyed having to go incognito. Most of them hadn't played dress-up since they were kids, so now every time they had to wear what Sub-commander T'pol called 'indigenous apparel', the crewmen who were chosen for the away team would act like it was Halloween.

Trip grinned after looking Archer up and down. "You look good, Cap'n. The pod's been prepped already, we just needed the pilot to show up."

They all boarded the shuttle pod and flew down to the planet, landing a few kilometers outside the city and then heading towards it on foot, trying to work out their cover story on the way.

They decided to say that their group was visiting the capital as part of a tour for the benefit of a baron's daughter who was about to enter an arranged marriage and wanted to do some traveling before her wedding. The men were supposed to be her bodyguards on this trip since that was the only appropriate reason for a young unmarried woman of rank to be traveling with three men.

Although this planet was technologically advanced, their society appeared to be at a stage of development comparable to fifteenth century Earth. This wasn't the first time the crew had encountered this kind of incongruity, but most of the worlds they had seen so far had developed along similar lines to Earth's history, with social, scientific and technological strides being made during certain periods of general growth and awakening. For example, the Renaissance, American and French Revolutions and the Industrial Revolution.

This was no stone-age society; they had some nuclear and combustion-powered spaceflight but no warp engines, although they seemed fairly close to developing the technology. Taking this into consideration, T'pol had recommended that the away team try to stay inconspicuous while they observed the planet's inhabitants, so the team needed a convincing story if anyone asked where they were from, what their occupations were, etc.

While they traversed the woods, taking scans of the local flora and fauna, a reading caught Jean's eye. She headed over to the base of a large tree-like plant, where the scanner had said that a small mamalian creature was hiding in the underbrush.

A grey, furry thing with black bulging eyes and a rapidly twitching nose poked its head out between some leaves, and Jean had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle a delighted squeal.

Reed heard the muffled sound and came over to her quickly, his feet barely making a sound on the forest floor. "Ensign, what is it?"

She grinned, her eyes shining with wonder. "Alien squirrel!" she said in a stage whisper. Before Reed could stop her, she rummaged around in the leather pouch at her hip and drew out a bit of granola. She cupped the grains in her palm, bending down to let the small fuzzy critter examine her offering.

"C'mere, little guy. See what I have for you?"

The creature disappeared into the leaves for a moment, but when the larger creature (aka Jean) made no move to hurt or grab it, it slowly crept out from under the bush to sniff at her hand. Jean was crouching on the ground, sitting back on her heels, while Reed muttered disapprovingly from miles above her.

"This animal might very well be hostile, or it could carry any number of diseases…"

She huffed out an annoyed breath, causing some of the hairs resting on her forehead to fly upwards. Sometimes, his overly cautious nature really got on her nerves. "Scan it, then, if you're so worried."

Reed, still muttering to himself, took out his scanner and dutifully began making sure that the small fuzzy creature posed no threat. He was still busy doing that when Archer and Trip came over.

"We were wondering where you disappeared to-"

Jean cut Trip off with a hissed '_shush!_' and her tiny friend froze for a moment, examining the new large creatures. Its nose twitched, whiskers flicking rapidly from side to side, and its three eyes blinked nervously.

"It's okay, little guy. We don't want to hurt you."

The creature seemed reassured by her soothing tone, and it rested two of its six tiny paws on the side of her cupped hands. The forwardmost paws busied themselves in scrubbing at its head and neck, much the same way that hamsters and mice from Earth do to clean themselves. The hindmost paws remained on the ground, supporting the creature's weight, and a small lithe tail with a tuft of purple hair on the end of it twitched back and forth in a slow, almost rhythmic way.

"Wow," Trip breathed. "Look at 'im!"

Jean grinned. "I know… so much cuter than Sluggo."

Reed cleared his throat, glancing first at his friend, then at the captain. "The creature appears to not be a carrier of any disease organisms or to have any harmful compounds in its anatomy, captain."

Archer nodded his understanding and pressed his lips together to suppress a snort of laughter. Leave it to Reed to conduct a threat-analysis of a hexapodal squirrel.

"Thank you, Mr. Reed. Ensign,"

She didn't turn around for fear of spooking the creature, and she kept her voice low for the same reason. "Yes sir?"

Archer smiled, chuckling at the sight of their new little friend nibbling at a clump of dried blueberries which rested in the middle of Jean's palm. "I believe this may be our first contact with an alien species which will be totally without incident."

Trip grinned. "Cap'n, can we keep him?"

Jean glanced at him sidelong. "I think 'Sextus' is a good name, considering his six legs."

"Actually," Reed quietly cleared his throat, "my scans shown that 'he' is androgenous."

Sextus choose that moment to spring into Jean's palm, sending some granola flying when he landed and making her wobble slightly in her crouch. Trip put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

Archer looked around at his people, all intently watching the alien critter, and gave a slow nod. "Trip, I don't see why not… as long as you take him for walks and change his newspapers."

"Ya hear that, Sextus, you're gonna have a new home…" Trip reached out a finger to gently pet the animal's head, and at his touch it started to make a gentle cooing noise. It sounded almost like a metallic version of a Mourning Dove.

Reed made a soft sound, shaking his head and glancing around to make sure that no locals were approaching. "And how will we transport our little friend back to Enterprise?"

Trip chuckled, watching as Sextus flopped over onto his back in Jean's hands, waggling all six of his tiny feet in the air when the engineer started tracing a circle in its soft belly fur. "Maybe he'll come with us on his own. An' if he gets scared, we've got containers back on the pod that have air holes, like the one we used for Sluggo. I'm not sure we'll need that, though. You wanna come with me, don'tcha, little guy?"

Sextus chirped, following Trip with his eyes when the man moved to get up. The animal seemed to think about its next move for a second, and then like a flash it scrambled up Trip's arm to perch on the man's shoulder. Trip beamed triumphantly, the grin getting even wider at Reed's wide-eyed expression of disbelief.

"Gentlemen, I do believe we're in the presence of the hexapodal-squirrel charmer," Archer declared. "Now, lets get into town and explore the culture of the bipedal inhabitants."

They walked towards the city, Sextus looking around curiously. It had been up this high before, of course, but the plants it climbed had never moved through the forest, and it studied the new viewpoint with evident interest.

Jean shook her head at Trip. "So, where is the little fuzzy going to sleep?"

Trip only thought about it for a moment before breaking into a grin, his eyes twinkling. "I think my antique diving helmet'd be perfect. Small enough to make the little guy feel cozy, an' its up high, so it'll be kinda like sleepin' in a nest in the trees."

Reed shook his head, smirking wryly. "I'm so very glad you didn't find something the size of a koala, Jean. He would have decided to convert his locker into split-level housing."

They all laughed at the quip, and Jean gave him a warm smile. It looked like this was turning out to be one of those fabled trouble-free away missions the crew had only heard tell of.


	3. Setting off

3

Once they got into the city, the team split into two groups; Jean and Reed in one and Archer and Trip in the other. Sextus stayed on Trip's shoulder, happily playing with the man's hair, looking around at everything with great interest and giving the occasional chirp. After walking around for a while and looking in various shops, Archer and Trip found themselves outside a small cantina. They'd seen people gathering together and moving towards the center of town and were eager to find out what it was all about.

Jean and Reed had followed a group which joined the dancing at what appeared to be a town festival. They stood at the edge of the area where the dancers were for some time, studying the steps and moves of the dance, and after a while she nudged him with her elbow. "Do you think we could join in?"

"I'm not sure," he looked around at the dancers and then at the crowd. "It seems that anyone is welcome to dance, but I certainly don't know the steps."

She nodded and smiled. "Nor do I. We'll watch them for a few minutes to try and learn, and then we'll see if we can join in. If we get stuck during the dance, we could always just start waltzing."

He laughed shortly and shook his head. "You really are quite insane."

She kept smiling and started studying the dancers more carefully. "But I'm sure you mean that as a compliment."

"Oh, of course." She glanced over at him and saw that his eyes were twinkling.

When the current song ended some dancers left the center of the circle and others came to the middle. Taking this as their cue, Jean and Reed joined hands and stepped into the center. They looked around quickly to see how the other pairs started. It seemed that the women held part of their skirt and their partner's left hand in their right hand. The woman's free hand went on the back of the man's neck, and the man's right hand held the woman's waist.

The steps weren't too hard to follow but every so often they would do a step from a waltz or some other dance just for fun. After a while they were swept up in the music and the dancing, and a couple of times they almost forgot what they were really doing there.

At one point in the song some of the dancers switched partners. Others pairs stayed together and Jean didn't want to switch, so when a Chalderean man and his partner came up to them Jean hissed in Reed's ear. "_Don't let go of me._" He nodded very slightly and held onto her waist more tightly.

"Terribly sorry, but we're not ready to exchange partners." The man nodded and he and his partner continued dancing together.

Jean shifted her hand in his very slightly to give him an affectionate squeeze. "Thanks."

He nodded again and loosened his hold on her waist slightly. "Anytime, Ensign. Shall we keep dancing?"

"Until the song ends. Maybe longer."

Suddenly, the men all lifted their female dance partners up into the air and did a full three-sixty turn before setting the women down on their feet again. Fortunately Reed was only a split second behind the rest of the men in the lifting so they didn't stand out very much. When he put her down again she was practically beaming and he smiled knowingly at her.

"Having fun, ensign?"

She laughed quietly "Yes sir, I am. Sir, did you see how the dance ends?"

Reed cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably and nodded. "I did."

She shook her head and gave him a reassuring half-smile. "Don't worry, sir. I'll behave if you will."

"Good." He noticeably relaxed after that and before too long they were enjoying themselves again. Sometime later they heard a familiar theme in the song.

"Isn't this what they played a little while before that lifting move?"

Jean nodded. "I think you're right. Get ready..."

This time Reed was perfectly in time with the rest of the men, lifting and turning and then setting Jean down again, and again she looked positively thrilled afterwards.

Reed softy cleared his throat. "I believe we have an audience." Reed nodded over Jean's shoulder, indicating that she should turn, but then he decided to swing her around as part of the dance. They spun around and she looked over his shoulder. She saw Captain Archer and Commander Tucker standing in the ring of spectators around the dance floor with looks of supreme amusement on their faces.

"Well, we should give them something to watch, don't you think?"

She grinned evilly at Reed and he nodded in agreement, taking the cue to try a few steps before he dipped her. They danced until the song ended, throwing in fancy turns and dips every once in a while and then stopping along with the rest of the dancers as the music slowed.

All of the pairs moved closer together as the music became softer and slower. The partners inclined their heads towards each other and leaned in for a kiss. True to her word, Jean simply pressed her lips to Reed's for a second and then broke away to curtsey to him as he bowed to her, blushing slightly.

As they pulled apart a look of recognition washed over Jean's face and she exclaimed softly "I remember you!"

Ever since survival training she'd associated a feeling of familiarity with Reed but she hadn't been able to place it. Now, all it took was a polite peck to bring the memory rushing back.

Five years earlier they had flirted and kissed in a bar in Kent where she and a small group of friends had been performing; she'd been attracted to him and he to her and they'd ended up sitting together talking for almost two hours. She smiled at the memory but knew that Reed probably didn't remember that night, and she had no intention of reminding him. He was a quiet guy and he'd only just started to come out of his shell around her. Learning about what happened in that bar years ago would only send him right back into his self-inflicted seclusion. She didn't want that to happen.

Reed looked at her, puzzled and more than a little surprised. "Ensign?"

"During survival training I mentioned that you seemed awfully familiar and you said that I seemed familiar too, but neither one of us could say why. I just remembered the reason why."

"Well?" He looked so eager to know the reason behind the familiarity, so honestly curious that she couldn't resist messing with him just a little. _I won't tell him, but that doesn't mean I can't tease him._

She shook her head, still holding one of his hands in hers and smiling as she led him off of the dance floor. "You're not ready to know. Not yet."

It was his turn to shake his head. "Minx."

They left the dance floor as the next song began and went over to their officers who were grinning in a very confused sort of way.

Archer shook his head, looking incredibly amused by the whole thing. He cleared his throat and tried to wipe the smile from his face. It didn't work. "So you like being lifted, Ensign?"

She shrugged but couldn't manage to stop grinning. "What can I say sir? I just love flying."

Trip stepped forward, making a small bow and smiling hugely. "May I have this dance?"

"If you don't mind, Commander, I'd like to get some actual exploring done today."

Trip turned to Archer and nodded reluctantly. "Aye, Cap'n."

As they walked away from the crowd, Jean fell back a few steps so she could talk to Trip and so she could coo at Sextus, who was still perched on Trip's shoulder. However, the creature has curled up and appeared to be napping, and she didn't want to disturb it. She touched Trip's arm gently. "If the dancing's still going on when we come back this way I'd be happy to dance with you."

He grinned and thanked her, then nodded towards Reed. "You'd better get back to your dancing partner, you don't want him to get lonely." He teased her gently and earned himself a not so gentle nudge in the ribs.

She picked up the pace and caught up with Reed in a few short strides. He noticed her at his elbow and smiled, holding his arm out for her to take. The courtly gesture made her smile. He really was an old-fashioned guy, when you got right down to it, and she found his gentlemanly ways very endearing. "Did you miss me, sir?"

"Horribly." He gave her a sideways look as she took his arm. "What was that all about?"

Reed was looking from her to Trip quizzically and she sighed, not wanting to go into any details. "There's a bit of a history there, but nothing ever happened between us. I'll tell you about it later if you're interested."

He looked at her warily and then glanced briefly at Commander Tucker, trying to not think about it. Two of his colleagues, an officer and his friend ... it didn't bear thinking about.

"I'll pass on that."

The away team spread out in two different directions in their pairs, observing people and scanning them surreptitiously. Jean gradually moved away from Reed after slipping her arm out of his. A peculiar building near an alleyway caught her interest and she decided to investigate. She'd only been taking scans for a minute when two dark shapes appeared out of the shadows and rushed towards her. One clamped a hand over her mouth so she couldn't yell for help and the other threw her over his shoulder and made to carry her off.

She struggled but the men were strong and they held her firmly. Desperate to be heard, she bit down hard on the hand covering her mouth and blindly grabbed at the first thing her hand fell on, which happened to be part of Reed's shirt, and called out to him. "Help me sir!"

In the darkness he could just barely make out her panicked expression as a pair of shadowy figures grabbed at her and dragged her off down an alleyway. He called to the other officers as he ran after her around a corner. "Captain! Commander!"

Archer and Trip followed him as he ran down the alleyway and then disappeared into the darkness.


	4. Downhill

4

Somewhere on Chalderon IV, 1435 hours, August 16 2151

After a seemingly endless forced march through a maze of corridors, sloping passages and sudden turns, the three men were brought to a halt and forced to the ground. They were left alone momentarily by their armed shepherds, grateful for the opportunity to rest after several hectic and confusing hours.

"I can't believe how easily they got us," Trip muttered quietly, wary of attracting unwanted attention from their mysterious captors.

Reed huffed, straining against the ropes bound around his wrists. "After they grabbed Jean, we should have been more vigilant, not less. I didn't even see them skulking about in that alleyway until it was too late..."

The captain edged closer to his officers, trying to free his own hands without success. "We were focused on finding her, there's nothing wrong with that. Besides, there were seven of them against the three of us. Not exactly what I'd call even odds, even if we'd seen them coming-" he cut himself off when a set of heavy footsteps came clomping towards them.

Blindfolds were removed from their eyes and they blinked in the sudden light. As the starbursts cleared and their eyes started to adjust, they saw that they were in a large cavern-like room. Because it was windowless and lighted by torches mounted on the clay walls, the room seemed to be underground. Coarse ropes bound their hands behind their backs and armed guards stood nearby, making sure that they were quiet and stayed put. Towards the center of the room on a dais stood a group deep in conference. It was difficult to tell how large the group was because they seemed to move in the flickering torchlight.

After looking carefully at the group for a few moments, Reed saw a familiar face. "Captain," he said, indicating the huddled figures "I think Ensign Olenick is over there with them."

Archer spotted her and breathed a sigh of relief. A few hours earlier the ensign was abducted. She managed to alert the rest of the away team as she was being dragged off, and they spent almost two hours looking for her before they themselves were captured.

"Malcolm, can you tell whether she's alright?"

Reed craned his neck and squinted against the shifting light. "She's not tied up, sir, and she seems unharmed. It looks like she's standing and talking to them."

As he spoke, one of the guards moved towards them. Seeing this, Reed fell silent and watched to see what the guard was doing. He moved behind the prisoners and began adjusting their bonds. He loosened the ropes binding their hands together then moved away and stood farther off than before. The guard passed in front of the three Starfleet officers, briefly blocking their view of the group on the dais, but once the he had moved out of their way, they could see that he had taken up a position at Ensign Olenick's side and was coming towards them with her. It was unclear whether he was there to protect her from the kneeling officers or if he was preventing her from attempting an escape. In either case, it wasn't long before she was standing in front of Captain Archer. The guard took up a position a few steps away and stood in what must be the local version of a 'parade-rest' stance, with one hand loosely gripping the cross-piece of his belt while his other hand balled into a fist and rested at the small of his back.

The ensign flashed an apologetic look at Archer and tried for a joking tone. "Long time, no see, sir."

Archer shook his head slightly, glancing at the guard. It seemed that he hadn't heard her whispering, so the captain hissed "Situation report?"

"I've managed to establish a rapport with one of them. He may be able to help us." After a nervous pause she shot a wary look at the guard, making sure to keep her voice low. "They found my scanner and my comm. I'm supposed to frisk you, sirs, and turn over any devices or weapons you might have."

She hesitated, waiting for the captain to nod his permission. As soon as he did, she started going through his pockets, quickly finding his scanner, comm. and phase pistol.

Trip gave a short, humorless huff of laughter when she moved on to relieve him of his equipment. "An' give up our only advantage?"

She put the things which she had found in the captain's and Trip's pockets into a small sack which the guard had left on the floor by her feet. "My guess is, you'll be searched again by one of their men…"

Reed looked at her appraisingly and finished the thought. "They want to see if you can be trusted."

Trip closed his eyes, catching on. "An' if they find somethin' after you're done, we lose our inside man."

She leaned in closer to Reed on the pretense of taking his scanner. "Looks like."

Trip sighed heavily. "In that case, I've got a microspanner in my front pocket… the left one."

Jean smiled at him shakily and then fished out the spanner. "Thanks, sir."

After putting Reed's comm., scanner and phase pistol into her sack, she turned and headed back to the dais, her heavily muscled escort not far behind.

"I hope they don't lose my spanner," Trip muttered. "I'd just gotten that one set up perfectly."

Archer smiled tightly, watching as the small group of aliens sifted through their equipment. He and Reed both had similar reactions when one of the more militaristic-looking men held up one of their phase pistols and experimentally sighted along the barrel. Archer involuntarily flinched when the weapon was leveled at him. "I think we have bigger problems right now than your spanner, Trip."

Over on the dais, they could see that the ensign was talking animatedly. She tried to get the militaristic-looking man to lower the weapon, but one of the heavyset guards stopped her.

"Looks like she's puttin' in a good word for us," Trip said, smiling and moving his hands.

Reed flexed his wrists experimentally and shook his head, looking doubtful. "Yes, but how did she manage that? It doesn't make sense to capture someone and then follow their advice."

The group on the dais dispersed and several people started walking towards the hostages. Archer took this in and muttered to his officers, "we're about to find out."

An officious looking man with a tall staff and greenish robes stopped walking and stood in front of the three men. He was older than anyone else in the group and he had a dusting of silver in his hair and short beard. Although he was obviously a person of importance, he seemed more kindly than pompous, like someone they could reason with. He looked them over carefully as though he was deciding how to treat them before speaking.

"I am Princep Lorristor. Jaeen has told me that until a short time ago you were her superiors. Now it seems that the roles are reversed, and she will decide what happens to you. I hope, for your sakes, that you have not mistreated her."

One of the men standing beside the speaker cleared his throat. This man was considerably younger than the Princep and of medium build, but somehow his body was all angles. Even his voice was hard and sharp, so much so that when he spoke the comparatively soft words of the Princep seemed to be pierced by them and diminish in size. The Princep looked sideways at the younger man as he stepped forward, clearly wanting him to remain quiet, but the younger man ignored the look and spoke up.

"Actually Princep Lorrister, as Defense Chief I will decide their fate. We have no record of these men and I advise that we treat them as spies and hold them for questioning. We don't know who Jaeen really is either, or whether she intends to help us or to harm us. Weapons were found on her 'oppressors,' along with other instruments which she hasn't identified. For all we know, she could interfere on behalf of these men to stop us from acquiring new technology. I think that we should test her loyalty to us."

The Princep sighed and nodded reluctantly after giving Jean and the rest of the away team an apologetic look. He then faced the sharp man and said sadly, as though it was only a formality, "Very well, Rostin. So be it."

During this entire exchange Archer had been glancing at Jean every so often to gauge her reactions to what was being said. Judging by the look on her face, she'd anticipated something like this, and Archer knew that she was playacting as other crewmembers had been forced to do in dangerous situations. He knew that now she needed to do some quick thinking and hoped that she'd be able to gain the sharp man's trust. Jean was thinking the same thing and trying to prepare for whatever test was chosen.

The Princep cleared his throat half-heartedly and changed his grip on the staff before speaking. "Which one of you is the leader?"

Reed and Trip looked to Archer for some cue but neither said a word. To Archer, being the captain meant that he was responsible for the safety of his crew, so he wouldn't let anyone under his command take the fall for him. Archer accepted that the privileges of command came with certain burdens and he nodded to his men before addressing the Princep. "I'm the captain."

Lorrister nodded and looked to Jean who confirmed that Archer was telling the truth. He opened his mouth to speak but Rostin cut him off, gesturing to the confiscated phase pistols. "You said that these are weapons?"

She reluctantly confirmed this with another nod.

"Can they be used to kill someone?"

She looked dubious but answered, "yes, they can."

Rostin allowed a cheerfully menacing smile to creep across his features. "Excellent. If these men were your captors and if you are loyal to us, then you should have no problem killing their leader with this weapon."

Jean blinked and swallowed nervously as the still smiling Rostin walked over and handed her one of the phase pistols. She closed her hand around the instrument dazedly and watched Rostin stand back, looking very pleased with himself. "Now we will see where your loyalties truly lie."

It looked as though the Princep was about to protest, but one of Rostin's men made a great show of removing his knife from it's sheath, so he remained silent.

Jean nearly panicked. She couldn't kill Captain Archer, it wasn't even an option, but if her cover was blown then she couldn't help any of her crewmates. She nodded and addressed Rostin. "Alright, if this is what I have to do to secure your trust. Bring him over here." She spoke to two guards and gestured to Archer.

The guards seized Archer by both arms, unceremoniously dragged him across the floor and forced him to his knees before her. Their eyes met briefly and in that instant Archer knew that she had a plan. Reed and Trip were too far away to see this subtle look, so they were alarmed when they saw her adjust the phase pistol and then point it at the captain.

However, Rostin had also seen her fiddling with the weapon. "Hold on, what are you doing?"

Jean looked up at him with her best 'who, me?' innocent expression. "Oh, I was just checking that the power cell was calibrated properly. It has to be set a certain way for the device to work."

Not really understanding her answer but satisfied by it, Rostin waved his hand impatiently. "Very well, but get on with it."

The captain couldn't help recalling the first time Reed had shown him the new sidearms. His Tactical Officer's words came echoing back to him, clear as day.

"_They're called phase-pistols. They have two settings: stun and kill. It would be best not to confuse them."_

Archer followed the phase pistol with his eyes as Jean circled around to stand directly behind him. She aimed it at the back of his head and murmured quietly so that only he could hear her, "it's set to stun." She swallowed nervously, opting to leave the "I hope" unspoken. If she got this wrong, Archer would never know the difference, but she certainly would. Praying that she had put the weapon on the right setting, she squeezed the trigger and a bright stream of orange light flew from the pistol to hit Archer just above his neck, causing him to fall over in a lifeless heap.

Reed looked at her in horrified disbelief while Trip couldn't take his eyes off of Archer's body. They had noticed her adjust the phase pistol but they had no way of knowing whether she'd killed or merely stunned the captain. After she was assigned to the away team Reed had resumed teaching her how to use the weapons; loading the power cell and setting them to either 'stun' or 'kill'. However, she still was having quite a bit of trouble remembering the difference between the two settings and she might have mistakenly adjusted the weapon to the lethal setting since they spent so little time on it and since the current situation was so nerve-wracking.

There was no question in Reed's mind as to her loyalty; he knew that she'd never intentionally hurt any member of the crew, but actually seeing her shoot the captain had been shocking.

Jean walked past Archer's fallen body and approached Trip and Reed with a smile on her face which was almost a sneer. She was pleased that her idea had worked but tried to pass off her relief as defiance so Rostin wouldn't suspect anything. It seemed that the next step in her plan was obvious, so she stopped inches from the officers and started putting it into action.

She leaned forward, looked Reed squarely in the eye and said in a cold tone "I'm not taking orders from you anymore."

Again she saw different varieties of shock come over the officers' faces, but then she subtly indicated with her eyes that Reed should look at her left hand, in which she still held the phase pistol. He followed her gaze and saw that she'd turned her hand to let him see what the weapon was set to when she fired it.

The shocked look on Reed's face gave way to relief and he smiled to himself as Jean turned away. Trip looked at him questioningly and Reed whispered "it was on stun." Trip breathed a sigh of relief, but both men knew they had to help carry out the deception by appearing to be shocked by the ensign's 'betrayal'.

After showing them what she needed to she headed over to Rostin and gave the weapon back. She then quirked an eyebrow, while saying as coolly as she could "are you satisfied about my loyalty now, or should I kill the others too?"

She hoped that if all three men were 'dead', she might be able to get them back into the main city more easily. According to the information Subcommander T'pol had gathered, this culture buried their dead outside of the city limits, and if the 'corpses' were set to be transported out of the city, the human men would only have to play possum until they could make a break for it. Of course, there was the problem of making sure that they would come to so she could apprise them of her plan well before they were buried alive, as well as figuring out a way for her to leave the complex unharmed.

Rostin smiled grimly and shook his head. "That would hardly be practical. They have information I want and interrogating dead men is pointless. If you like, I could ask my men to be especially hard on them. As the Princep said, now you have an opportunity for revenge if these men were cruel to you. That was what you meant, wasn't it, Lorristor?"

He turned to the Princep knowing that the older man had no choice but to agree, surrounded as he was by Rostin's armed followers. The princep nodded slowly and spoke softly, not meeting the other man's eyes. "Yes, Rostin, it was." This caused the cold smirk on Rostin's face to grow into a grin before he turned back to address Jean again.

"So, what should happen to these two?"

Risking a glance towards Reed and Trip, she saw that they were looking at her expectantly. They knew that she had to answer carefully since she was walking a tightrope between alerting their captors to her deception and allowing both officers to be severely beaten. She replied with her heart pounding loud and fast in her ears, but knowing that Rostin was still testing her she tried to appear calm.

"As far as questioning goes do what you need to, but they always treated me fairly. Their leader was cruel to me, but they never were."

Jean was beginning to wonder how long she could keep up this deceptive tango. Fortunately Princep Lorristor had heard enough and he stepped in to save her from any further underhanded questioning. "About your interrogation, Rostin, shouldn't you start that soon? I'm sure that Jaeen will be more than willing to answer any questions you still have after you've pumped these men for information."

"I suppose so. Guards, question these men thoroughly and show them to our guest accommodations."


	5. Waiting

5

Somewhere on Chalderon IV, 1605 hours, August 16 2151

After a lengthy interrogation session, Trip and Reed were half dragged and half led into a series of corridors below the main counsel chamber by three hefty guards. Their armed escorts eventually stopped in front of a wrought-iron door which was situated in a small alcove and recessed into the earthen wall. One of the guards handed off his prisoner and entered some sort of command into a keypad which then unlocked and opened the door. Trip craned his neck trying to see the sequence of symbols, but his guard caught on quickly and knocked the Chief Engineer to the ground.

"Don't even bother" he sneered "there's no one left to rescue you. Your 'friend' is working for my boss now, and your boss is dead. You two had better get used to your new quarters and used to doing as Defense Chief Rostin commands, unless you'd like more of these."

He roughly jabbed at Reed's split lip and Trip's blackened eye. "On the other foot, if you cooperate things will be easier for you."

One of the quieter guards took over and nodded to his noisy companion before unceremoniously shoving the two captives into their dank cell. "Get in there!" He shook his head. "These two are more trouble than they're worth. I like their friend, though." After pulling the door shut and entering the locking sequence, he smirked in an especially creepy way. "I wouldn't mind getting _her_ alone for a few hours."

The three of them left the cell for their normal posts, trading crude comments along the way.

Once the last of the suggestive laughter had trailed off into silence, Reed looked around for Trip. Since his eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dimness of their cell, he had some trouble locating the other man. "'Other foot'? Something must be wrong with the UT."

Trip gingerly picked himself up from the dirt floor and walked over to lean against the nearby wall. "Small glitch, probly. Hoshi'll have it fixed in no time once we're back on Enterprise. Owch! What... well, I'll be damned."

Reed came over to see what he was talking about. "What is it? Did you find something?"

Smiling and shaking his head in disbelief, Trip nodded and picked something up from the floor. "I found somethin' alright. I stubbed my toe on the away team med kit. Jean must've left it down here for us to find. I guess she does have a plan after all."

"Now all we have to do is clean ourselves up and wait for her to contact us... " Reed took the med kit from Trip and opened it, taking out supplies and bandages with the intent of patching up both himself and the engineer. When he'd removed a few things, Reed noticed that there were several objects in the kit which were definitely not medical supplies; the communicators, the scanners, and even two of the phase pistols.

"Commander!" Reed held up what he'd found. "Something tells me these aren't part of a standard kit."

Trip picked up one of the communicators and opened it. When a communicator was turned on it would usually chirp, but the only noise coming from this one was a quiet crackling of static. "D'you think we should try to contact Enterprise, let them know we're alright?"

"I don't know." Reed shook his head doubtfully "We don't know how advanced their sensors are, they might detect the transmission. We don't even know if we're still in range for Enterprise to detect the signal. Are all the communicators in there?"

Trip rummaged through the pile and took a quick count, shaking his head afterwards. "No, there's one missing… and one of the pistols. D'you think the captain has them?"

Reed shrugged, the darkness of the cell helping him to hide a grimace of pain. "If he does, he's probably contacted Enterprise already and briefed T'Pol. If not… we have to assume that our _friends _are using it to monitor our transmissions." He paused for a moment, waiting for some response from the other man, but Trip said nothing. Reed could hear him breathing in the darkness, and he thought he saw the commander nod in agreement, but he couldn't be sure. He sighed carefully, feeling through the equipment and grabbing hold of a small head lamp which he supposed was meant to provide illumination for a medic working in dark environs.

_Well, _he thought _this will make patching each other up a good deal easier._

Reed turned on the lamp and carefully put it over his head. "We might as well put this kit to good use."

Trip nodded, sifting through the kit and handing Reed a scanner. "Might as well."

After turning on the scanner and running it over Trip to assess his injuries, Reed couldn't suppress a shudder. The guards had been very aggressive in their questioning, and since neither Starfleet officer had cooperated in the slightest, the interrogation had devolved into a savage beating. When it appeared that the guards were going to spend most of their time focusing on Reed, Trip had tried to divert their attention to himself, in order to grant the lieutenant a brief respite, but shortly thereafter the 'interrogation' had ended.

The commander had been struck several times, by boots, fists and gun butts. In addition to his black eye, he had suffered a badly bruised jaw, some internal bleeding, and a particularly nasty whack to his shoulder which limited the rang of motion of his right arm.

"Here's an anesthetic… " Reed loaded a hypo with medicine and injected Trip with it. "Any better?"

Trip nodded, trying to move his arm without grimacing. "Anything like an icepack in there?"

Reed looked around, the beam from the lamp on his forehead bouncing around the room as he shifted position. "I don't… here, this should do you." He started to hand a small packet over to Trip, then stopped to read some instructions on the item's side. Following the directions, he activated the chemicals in the pack by rupturing a small capsule inside it and then shaking the whole assemblage. Once it started to turn cold against his fingers, he put it in Trip's hand.

The engineer smiled as he laid the coldpack on his sore shoulder, reaching out his other hand expectantly for the medical scanner. "Okay, Malcolm. Your turn."

Reed reluctantly handed over the device and the headlamp, so that the commander would be able to see properly while he was playing medic, and Trip handed over his coldpack, since he wouldn't be able to hold it in place and tend to the lieutenant at the same time.

Of the two, Reed was much worse off. He had a split lip, some nasty bruising to his ribs and back where he had been repeatedly punched and kicked, a cut somewhere on his head which had caused blood to ooze down over his forehead, and a goose egg on the back of his head from when a guard had struck him with… something. He couldn't quite remember what.

"Ohh, my head." Trip helped him sit down against one of the earthen walls and he leaned back, trying to steady his breathing.

"Easy, Malcolm." Trip patted his shoulder and guided one of the man's hands up to hold the coldpack against his head. The cool touch seemed to help, at least a little.

Reed nodded, shifting uncomfortably when an uneven part of the wall pressed into a sore spot. "Did you see what that guard hit me with?"

Trip winced, giving the other man a sympathetic look. "Which time?"

Reed gave a breathy chuckle. He knew that Trip's question was valid, and really, knowing what he'd been hit with wouldn't help him in any way, but he still wanted to know. "My head… I didn't see what it was."

"Oh," Trip nodded, running the scanner over him. "I think it was the butt of his rifle." He frowned to himself, unwillingly replaying in his mind the savage beating which Reed had been the recipient of. The lieutenant had ended up on the floor, being kicked and beaten for some time before Trip got the guards to focus on him instead. It had been horrible to watch, and Trip had found himself hoping that the guards would beat him to unconsciousness so he wouldn't have to watch them brutalize Reed any more.

"If any of those animals lays a finger on Jean…" he trailed off, sharing a look with Reed, who nodded grimly.

"Agreed. They're nearly warp capable, after all, so I doubt T'Pol would make too much of a fuss if one of these _gentlemen _had a sudden… accident." One corner of his mouth quirked up.

Trip chuckled to himself. "Not that there's a helluva lot we can do in here." He put another dose of anesthetic in the hypo and pressed it against Reed's neck. "That help?"

Reed nodded with his eyes closed. "Now, if we could just get word to _Enterprise_ to get a lock on our biosigns with the transporter…"

"I don't see how to do that, and if we can't get a clear comm. signal, I don't wanna chance usin' that thing. 'Sides, we don't know how deep we are, or if they could even get a lock. Here…" he found another coldpack in the kit and activated it. He put the pack in Reed's hand and reached for a disinfectant swab. "Hold that for me, will ya? I'm gonna clean up this dried blood…"

The Englishman started to argue, but Trip silenced him with a look. "Unless you've got a mirror on you, lieutenant, this is how we've gotta to do it." Reed sighed, sitting still while Trip wiped at his forehead and trying not to hiss in pain when some of the disinfectant found its way into his cut. The cut seemed to be somewhere near the swollen goose egg, and Reed surmised that when the guard's rifle had hit him, the weapon must have broken the skin.

_Lovely, _he couldn't help thinking. _I_ _won't be much use if we have to fight our way out of here._

He couldn't remember if he'd walked an appreciable distance, or even stood up unassisted since the interrogation had ended. The guards hadn't really given him a chance to walk on his own afterwards, roughly hauling him and Trip to their cell and then throwing them inside, and aside from picking himself up, he hadn't moved much after that. He knew that it would be a good idea to see how steady he was on his feet; if a fight couldn't be avoided, the last thing he wanted was to be a liability to the rest of the team. Reed took a slow, steadying breath, and felt his sore ribs scream in protest. He would rest for a while before trying to determine how mobile he was.

"There," Trip sat back on his heels, apparently satisfied with the job he had done of cleaning Reed up. He patted the other man's shoulder. "All better."

"Thanks, mum." Reed smirked in the darkness.

Laughing good-naturedly, Trip packed up the kit and then sat back against the wall, making sure that he faced the door in case any of the guards came back. "Lets try to get some rest. We don't know what her plan is, or when the next part of it will go into action."

Reed handed back one of the coldpacks, keeping the other for himself. "I wonder how Captain Archer fits into her plan…"

Trip slung the coldpack over his right shoulder and shrugged the other one, letting his eyes close. "I'm guessin' we're gonna find out."

* * *

The first thing that Archer noticed was that his wrists were sore. The next thing was that his back hurt, and his head felt like it was about to explode. He pressed a hand to his forehead and started to sit up, groaning quietly, but his body was reluctant to cooperate, and he started to lose his balance. A strange pair of hands suddenly took hold of his shoulders, and he was gently guided to lie down once more as a calm voice spoke to him.

"Do not attempt to move, Captain Archer. You must lie still."

Archer pulled his eyes open at the voice. It was familiar, but he couldn't place it. He saw a tall older man with salt and pepper hair standing over him. "Who are you?"

The man smiled kindly. Despite his disorientation, Archer found the man's demeanor to be very comforting. "Forgive me, captain. I believe we were never formally introduced. My name is Lorrister."

Archer nodded, feeling his head throb. "You tried to stop Rostin from going too hard on Jean, back in that… large chamber."

Lorrister frowned. "The council hall, yes. Seeing a place where our ancestral statesmen set down our laws being used as a– a holding area…" He shook his head. "I am afraid that you have come to us in a troubled time."

Archer's eyes closed and he muttered to himself. "Yeah, we seem to have a knack for doing that."

Lorrister gave him a puzzled look, then shook his head, deciding not to ask Archer to explain what he had just said. Instead, he continued with his own explanation. "You were shot. Jean informed me that you would have certain symptoms upon waking, and asked me to apprise you of her plan since she would not be able to meet with you unobtrusively."

Archer let out a low chuckle and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I was hoping that she didn't just shoot me for the hell of it."

Lorrister folded his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe, seeming pensive. "She mentioned several times how much she regretted shooting you, but she also expressed a good deal of relief at having used the proper setting. I believe she was quite distressed at the prospect of harming you at all, and very concerned that she might have killed you by mistake, as she does not consider herself proficient with this weapon." Archer's eyes followed his hand, and he saw that Lorrister had drawn a phase pistol out from his robes, where it had been concealed. He tensed as the older man came closer, watching him carefully and feeling supremely vulnerable, but he relaxed when Lorrister put the weapon down next to his hand.

He tilted his head at Archer curiously, his eyes traveling quickly over the alien man. "Has the dizziness subsided?"

The captain nodded, grimacing a bit, and accepted Lorrister's help in sitting up. He left the pistol lying by his knee as his legs dangled off of the side of what could only be described as a cushioned ledge jutting out of one of the walls of the cavern. "Where are my people?"

Lorrister had turned away to get something, but he looked back over one shoulder to smile briefly. "Yes, she said that you would ask after them. The men have been questioned and are being held in a cell not too far from here. Jean is currently being supervised by Rostin. She referred to it as 'walking a tight-rope'. Perhaps later, when our situation has improved, you might explain that peculiar phrase to me?" He came back, carrying a small container of liquid which he politely offered to the captain. "Jean said that this beverage tastes like something called 'lemonade'. She found it to be quite refreshing."

Archer accepted the container, fervently wishing that he had a scanner so he could determine whether the liquid was safe to drink. He glanced up at Lorrister, who towered over him, and gave a nod. "Thank you." The man didn't seem to have any desire to harm him, and since he was the closest thing which the away team had to an ally on this planet, he didn't want to offend Lorrister's generosity. So, he drank.

The liquid did taste quite like lemonade, but it was still decidedly alien. He smiled up at Lorrister, fiddling slightly with the container in his hands. "Saying that someone is 'walking a tight-rope' means that they are attempting a difficult, sometimes dangerous task which requires a good deal of finesse, and if they make a mistake, the consequences can be very serious."

Lorrister served himself a glass of the same liquid and drank a bit. "Interesting. How did this phrase develop?"

Archer shook his head, trying to suppress a grin at the other man's curiosity. "I'll tell you later. Right now, I'd like to know where we are and what the situation is."

"Of course, and thank you for that explanation. We are in a disused section of the complex, adjacent to the cells. After you were shot, Jean informed my people that there were certain rituals which needed to be preformed to properly send you on your way to the afterlife. That enabled your 'corpse' to be brought here. She also entrusted me with your weapon and some of the other equipment which was seized from your people." He felt around in a bag which dangled from his belt, "I believe this is a communications device," and handed Archer one of the communicators.

"Our sensors should not be able to detect a transmission to your ship."

Archer looked up sharply, starting to become alarmed again, and he stood up. "Just how much did she tell you?"

Lorrister gave a slight smile which would not have looked out of place on Reed's face. "I had already surmised that you were alien visitors, based on her lack of knowledge of Chalderi culture, history, and technology, and your superior technology, coupled with the fact that there are no habitable planets within range of sub-warp vessels, means that you are quite far from home indeed. She merely filled in the blanks…" his smirk widened, "and she informed me that your presence here was meant to go undetected."

Archer shook his head, and Lorrister held up his hands, all traces of levity gone from his expression. "Please do not be angry with her, captain. She simply was, and still is, trying to find a way for you and your people to safely return to your vessel, and she recognized that this task would be nearly impossible without some assistance."

The captain took another few sips of his 'lemonade', mulling things over. "So, what is this plan?"

Lorrister drew a folded piece of paper out of his robes, and Archer idly wondered how many things he kept hidden in there. He half expected the man to take out a rabbit at some point… Archer shook his head, forcing himself to focus on what Lorrister was saying as he indicated different parts of the paper.

"She managed to place your team's medical case in the cell where your men are most likely to be held, this one here, along with your other equipment. We are a few levels above where the cells are. This is a map of the complex so you can determine the safest route to their cell in advance, and the guards will be changing shift in approximately five hours. There is a fifteen minute gap between the two shifts, so that will be the best time to free your men."

Archer nodded. The plan seemed well thought out, but he was worried that they might have trouble finding Jean once he had sprung Reed and Trip from their cell, and there was also the problem of getting out of the complex and leaving the city before they could get back to the pod. First things first, though. He would ask about the exit strategy after Lorrister finished explaining the plan. "How will I get the cell open?"

"I have the locking codes for both cells." Lorrister glanced up at him from the map. "You will need to memorize them."

"Understood. Now," Archer downed the rest of his 'lemonade', "I've got to let my crew know what's going on. Are you sure that your people can't detect a transmission?"

Lorrister shook his head. "I don't know what frequency your device operates on, so I can't be sure, but I know that our sensors focus almost exclusively on land-based communications. Any messages relayed to or from satellites tend to be ignored, especially if they are coming from a bureaucratic building such as this."

Archer rubbed a hand at his neck. The spot where Jean had shot him was pretty sore, but he had a sinking feeling that he had had better luck than his officers in terms of avoiding serious injuries. _Well, Jon, back to work. _

He picked up his communicator and flipped it open. The device chirped, prompting him to smile. "Archer to Enterprise."

Sub-commander T'Pol's voice floated through the comm. line. _"Enterprise. Captain, we attempted to contact you after completing our scans for Ensign Olenick's biosign but have been unable to reach the team since then. Have you encountered difficulties in locating her?"_

Archer glanced at Lorrister, who was looking a bit… shifty. "Standby, T'Pol."

Lorrister seemed uncomfortable. "The device made a sound some time ago, and the sound repeated at regular intervals for two arhns. Jean was quite insistent that I should not use any of the devices, so each time that the communication device made a sound, I left it alone."

Archer nodded, thinking that it had been prudent of Jean to tell him that, but he realized with a twinge of guilt that the bridge crew on _Enterprise _must have been very worried about the away team in the meantime. "No, no… we found her alright, but we're in a situation down here." He sighed, sitting down again. Lorrister refilled his cup with the drink and handed it to the captain, who smiled his thanks before turning his attention back to T'Pol.

"It's going to take some time to explain everything that's happened during the past few hours."


	6. From Bad To Worse

6

A dungeon somewhere on Chalderon IV, 1723 hours, August 16 2151

There was a loud commotion in the hallway; sounds of a brief struggle followed by impatient cursing and then something being dragged towards their cell. The noises stopped near their door and one of the guards in the hallway spoke.

"Rostin wasn't specific about where we should put her. Let's lock her up with her 'friends' and see what they'll do to her."

The other guard smiled as he activated the keypad and both men laughed before opening the cell and shoving someone inside. Trip and Reed had already guessed who their new cellmate was. The guards stood by the door for a while, hoping the men would pounce on her, but when nothing happened they gave up their cruel entertainment and left the area of the cells.

Jean had landed face down on the dirt floor and didn't move or speak even after the guards were gone. Trip went over to see whether she was alright. After a brief moment of hesitation Reed followed, bringing the med kit along just in case she needed medical attention. When he came over Jean still hadn't moved and Trip was kneeling next to her, looking as though he was about to speak. Reed joined them on the floor and put down the med kit, sliding it into Trip's field of vision and nudging him slightly. Trip looked over, saw the kit and nodded before turning back to Jean.

"They found you out."

It wasn't a question and she didn't answer. After a moment's pause he glanced at the med kit again and then at Reed, sharing a look with him. They knew first-hand how rough the guards could be, add the fact that Jean was seldom or never silent and they had good reason to be concerned about her.

All of a sudden she stirred, trying to pick herself up, but settled for turning her head so that her nose wasn't pressing into the dirt anymore. She reached a hand up to brush dirt off her face and then rested her head in her hands, looking dejectedly through her fingers at the floor. "Don't ask me any questions."

The men only responded with a confused silence.

"They put a listening device on me, so don't say anything or ask me anything." She raised her head out of her hands and turned, curious to see their reactions.

Trip looked flabbergasted but Reed got over his surprise very quickly. He'd expected something like this. With men like Rostin this kind of ploy was standard. After catching a spy, they try to use the spy to their own advantage.

Reed gave her an appraising once-over, wondering where the device could have been hidden. Of course there were the obvious places; pockets, under her clothes, etc. but he couldn't tell just by looking. "Where is it?"

Jean gave a short, almost angry laugh and shook her head, saying cheerfully "They put it in my back." She sat up with some effort and turned her back to them, looking over her shoulder at them before lifting her tunic slightly to show what she meant. It was hard to see in the darkness and the men had to squint, but just below her yin-yang tattoo they saw a small rectangular chip. It looked as though it were made out of some dull colored metal.

"Wait, _**in**_ your back? How d'you mean?" Trip looked as closely as he could without violating her modesty, but he still couldn't see how the chip was attached to her skin.

Jean raised her eyebrows, bitter humor shining from her eyes. "Ah, that's the fun part. There are small metal spikes at either end of it, curved sort of like fishhooks, which our hosts inserted into my skin. One of you needs to pull it out and then smash it into itty bitty pieces. Any volunteers?"

Trip frowned "So we just pull it out? Okay then, on three. One, two..."

Instead of waiting Trip pulled it out on two, catching Jean by surprise and causing her to bite back some unsavory language. Before she could say anything about it, he dropped the device on the floor and smashed it with the butt of a medical scanner.

She let the loose folds of her tunic drop back down to her waist before she began groping in the darkness, looking for a wall to lean against. "Uhg. I'm starting to hate this planet."

Reed couldn't help smirking as he moved to sit next to her. "Really? I thought you wanted to move here permanently. Owch!"

Jean had lightly kicked his leg and was glowering at him playfully. "That was _before_ the capturing and the interrogations and the faux execution of Captain Archer. The charm of this place wore off hours ago."

Once she found a seat, Trip ran the scanner over her and Reed started asking questions as he cleaned up the cuts and bruises on her face. "Are you hurt? Is the captain alright?"

"I'm fine, just a few minor injuries, and the captain is safe. Right now he's got one of the communicators and a phase pistol and he's hiding out from the guards."

Reed couldn't help asking "How did you manage it?"

She cocked her head to one side and smiled. "I fed them some bull about having to perform funeral rites in order to ensure the captain's passage into the afterlife."

The men chuckled disbelievingly and Trip shook his head. "I guess it's a good thing we watched 'The Mummy' this week. Does the captain know what's going on?"

"Mmhm. He knows where this cell is and he has the door locking code, and the schedule for the guard rotation memorized. When the next shift of guards comes on duty there's fifteen minutes when no one is watching the hallway outside these cells."

"And how did you find out about this?" Reed was looking at her with a complicated expression on his face; he was impressed by the intelligence but cautious about it's source. If they proceeded with a plan which was based on faulty intelligence, they could easily find themselves in more trouble.

She paused, knowing that he wasn't going to like this. "Lorrister told me... but before you jump down my throat I'd just like to say that think he's trustworthy. He dislikes Rostin and he's willing to help us escape if we help him in return."

Trip shook his head and held out a hand. "Hold on, hold on, who's Lorrister, and why does he need our help? You didn't make him any promises, did you?"

"He was the older man from the council chamber. He's the regional governor for this province but his country's been at war lately and Rostin, the one who was supervising the interrogations, used a local garrison to take over. Lorrister didn't want to hold us captive, but Rostin didn't give him any choice. Lorrister helped me get the information I needed and he even helped me move the captain to safety. He says that he'll help us, and I believe we can trust him. So ... ?"

She glanced from one officer to the other, trying to assess their reactions and hoping that they took this news as well as Captain Archer had. Neither one of them looked happy about it.

"And you're willing to trust this... Lorristor with our lives? With the captain's life?"

Reed was looking at her very skeptically and shaking his head. How many hours ago had she met this person, and now she was putting all their lives at risk by trusting their safety to him...

However, she seemed confident that it was going to work. "Yes. He's an honorable and wise man, with nothing to gain from deceiving us, and it's not like we have too many other options."

"True, but that's still one helluva hail-Mary, Ensign."

Reed rubbed absently at his sore neck and shook his head doubtfully, agreeing with Trip. "I hope you're right about him, ensign. It's quite a long shot. What did you say about the guards changing shift, there's an interval when the hallway is unguarded? Do you know when the next shift comes on?"

"They change the guard in four hours, but there isn't much for us to do until then except rest and wait for Captain Archer to break us out."

Trip nodded and gestured towards a blanket folded haphazardly in the corner. "You two try to get some shuteye and I'll take first watch."

They both nodded and Reed got up to retrieve the blanket. He unfolded it as he walked back to where Jean was scoping out a semi-comfortable campsite. When it looked like she'd found a good dry spot they both sat down. He laid the blanket on the ground but drew it up to cover their knees.

After they both lay down and pulled the blanket up to cover themselves, Jean waited for a moment and then tapped his shoulder. "Sir?"

He answered without looking over. "Yes, Ensign?"

She was pretty sure that he would never agree to her request, but it didn't hurt to ask_._ "Sir, could I borrow your shoulder?"

Surprised, he opened his eyes and turned over partly to get a look at her. "What for?"

She took a breath and got ready to hear him say 'no'. "If it's alright, I'd like to deputize your shoulder as my pillow."

He raised his head and looked at her quizzically, trying to decide whether or not she was actually serious. He saw soon enough that she was. Under normal circumstances he would have turned her down, but these were hardly normal circumstances, and he couldn't help remembering how much she had helped him the month before. It had been her very first away mission, and she had managed to keep him from falling to pieces when they had to swim out of a sunken shuttlecraft. That was a debt he couldn't ignore, and anyway, he knew her. One side of his mouth quirked into a wry smile. "If you insist, Ensign. I don't suppose you'd take no for an answer anyway."

Surprised and happy, she laid her face on the fleshy part just below his shoulder, making sure that no other parts of her body were touching him since she didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than was absolutely necessary.

She usually slept on her side with one arm below her pillow, or if she were in bed with someone else and using them as a pillow she'd intertwine her legs with theirs. This time, though, for the sake of Reed's sanity, she pointed her legs in an entirely different direction from his and kept her hands to herself.

* * *

For Jean's first away mission, see my story entitled 'Trapped'


	7. Knights And Monsters

7

A dungeon somewhere on Chalderon IV, 1830 hours, August 16 2151

Jean and Reed had both nodded off when Trip hissed urgently _"guards coming!"_ Immediately they both woke up and turned to face the door. All of them were on their feet as the locking code was entered and the door creaked ominously as it swung inwards, allowing three guards to enter.

The six of them squared off, prisoners and guards alike taking up fighting stances.

"We only want the woman." It was one of the gruff guards who had been making crude jibes at her earlier on, but in the darkness of the cell it was difficult to tell precisely where he was standing.

Without exchanging so much as a glance, Reed and Trip took up positions to defend their shipmate. "If you want her, you're gonna have to come through us."

While Trip spoke, Reed took a moment to study the situation. The odds were three against three, but in reality it was more like three to two. If Jean tried to help she'd become vulnerable to an attack from the third guard. Add to that handicap the fact that the guards had weapons and the Starfleet officers were unarmed and Reed couldn't see any way that he and Trip could be successful defenders. All the same, they had to try.

The first guard lunged at them, followed closely by the second. The fight lasted less than a minute, and in what seemed like no time the guards had grabbed Jean and were dragging her out of the cell.

She tried to fight them but it was no use, they were too big and strong for her to break free from their grasp. While two guards pulled her out into the corridor, a third stood in the doorway, preventing Reed and Trip from helping her and forcing them to watch what happened next.

The more brutish of the two guards moved towards Jean with a disgustingly self-satisfied look on his face while the other, slightly cleaner man held her fast against the wall.

"C'mon darling. If you give me a kiss I'll let your friends go. Just one nice kiss and you'll all be free."

_"Don't fall for it" _Reed whispered from the doorway, but Trip just shook his head. _"She won't. She's too smart for that."_

"Kiss this!" She kicked the guard in the stomach and then hit him hard in the knees, knocking him to the ground.

_"Told ya she was too smart."_ Trip smiled and Reed nodded in approval. _"Good for her."_

The guard who was still standing hit Jean across the face with the back of his hand. She fell awkwardly as her legs crumpled beneath her and lay at the base of the wall, cradling her injured face with one hand while trying to present as small a target as possible.

"I'm gettin that kiss an' then some, whether you like it or not."

The fallen guard was helped up by his friend and then both advanced on her. This time the marginally cleaner man was smiling evilly in anticipation. "I wouldn't mind gettin' a little sugar m'self."

Again she readied herself for a struggle, knowing that she couldn't hold them both off for very long. She tucked her feet beneath herself, bringing her knees close together and crossing her feet at the ankles so the men would have to pry her legs apart before they could...

... _no, don't think about that. Just curl up, one arm protecting the head while the other protects the stomach. Get ready to scratch and bite. Can't kick, since that would make... other parts vulnerable._

Now the guards were standing over her. The dirtier one grabbed her upraised hand by the wrist and wrenched it downwards, leaving her head unprotected. Seeing a chance to inflict some damage, she tried to pull her hand free to punch or hit him, but his hold on her wrist was too strong. She had to content herself with jigging her elbow about, hoping to jab him somewhere that would hurt.

The cleaner guard grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, clumsily groping at her breasts with his free hand while his friend, who didn't seem bothered at all by her jigging elbow, moved in for a kiss. When she judged that he was close enough she spat in his face. He slapped her hard and then proceeded to wedge his hand between her knees, forcing her legs apart.

When they saw her get hit the first time, Trip and Reed both winced but were stopped from intervening by the guard blocking the doorway. As both guards advanced on her and their intentions became even clearer, Reed hissed urgently to Trip.

"Sir, we have to do something! We can't just stand by and let... " He broke off, shaking his head. He simply couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence aloud.

_We can't let them rape her._

His brain automatically finished the phrase and he winced involuntarily. It was just too horrible. They _had_ to do something and if the commander wouldn't help him, well, then the odds would just be a bit more hopeless than they already were.

The cleaner guard had been playing with her breasts for a while when Trip caught sight of Jean's face. The dim guttering light from the hallway torches was reflected in wet and dirty smudges on her face. She was wearing an expression of humiliation, pain, and fear and although she'd shut her eyes tightly, tears continued to pour onto her cheeks.

It was more than Trip could bear to watch. He tried to force his way past the guard. "Stop that! Leave her alone!"

Reed saw that his superior officer was practically trembling with rage. The guard pushed Trip back a few steps, but the commander recovered his balance and threw a haymaker at the man's face. The guard stumbled back a few paces and Reed tackled him around his middle. The guard fell down in a heap, leaving the way clear for Trip and Reed to pull the other brutes off of their damsel in distress.

Jean kept her eyes closed tightly, ignoring the hands tugging at her hair and fondling her breasts, focusing all her attention on keeping her legs closed. _No! I will not be the first human involved in an inter-species rape! No way in hell is that gonna happen!_

In trying to pry her legs apart, the guard had moved her around so that she wasn't sitting on her feet anymore. Now if she wanted to she could try kicking him, but it would mean making herself vulnerable for an instant.

_But if I keep my feet together when I kick, it'll be a double-blow and I'll expose less of myself..._

Taking a chance on her theory, she caught him in the chest and knocked him backwards into Trip's waiting arms.

Moments later, a couple of strong hands touched her arm and she started, afraid of being hit again, until she saw Reed's face hovering before her.

After he and Trip double-teamed the guard at the door, Reed had taken out the guard who was holding her by the hair and molesting her. For a second he thought 'what if someone did this to Madeline?' and the next thing he knew he'd launched himself at the man, pulled him off of Jean and knocked him senseless with two punches. At roughly the same time, Jean had kicked the other guard directly into the path of Trip's right hook, and the commander had laid him out cold.

Now both human men were crouching in front of her on the dirt floor of the corridor with worried expressions on their faces. As soon as Jean realized who was in front of her, she threw her arms around Reed's neck and let him pick her up. She buried her face in his shirt and let the frightened tears stream down her cheeks as he carried her back into their cell. Trip went to shut the door behind them, effectively locking them all back in until Captain Archer would come to let them out.

Before he closed the door all the way, Trip took a look out into the hallway. He saw the three guards lying semi-conscious on the floor and saw the otherwise deserted corridor. It would be easy enough to try to escape now, but there were a few problems which Trip realized without needing a tactician to point them out. For one thing, Jean was in no state to go anywhere or do anything under her own power just yet. She needed to rest for a while and clear her head. Also, the captain was expecting to find them in the cell when the guards changed shift. If they weren't there when the captain came to get them, the whole escape plan which Jean had worked so hard to iron out would be shot to hell.

_So we could escape, but instead we're locking ourselves in again. It doesn't seem to make sense, but it actually does. _He shook his head. _And I figured that all out on m'own. T'Pol would be proud. _

Reed put her down in the corner where they had been sleeping, sharing a look with Trip after he closed the door. She didn't seem to be in any shape to answer questions about whether she was hurt or not, so Trip got out the medical scanner and began checking her for injuries while Reed stayed where he was, holding her.

After he put her down she kept clinging to him and crying, but her tears were gradually becoming quieter and less panicked-sounding. He wanted to tell her that she was safe now and that the guards weren't going to hurt her any more, but he knew that neither of these things was certain, so he settled for simply holding her while she cried.

"They... they..." was all she could manage between hiccupy sobs, shaking her head and closing her hands into fists as though she were still trying to fend off her attackers.

He rubbed her back gently with one hand and tried to soothe her. "I know, Ensign, I know. But it's over now and you're alright. Easy does it. You're alright." _For now,_ he thought. He didn't say it aloud, of course, knowing it would only upset her more.

Trip turned off the medical scanner and put it away. "She's okay, no serious injuries."

Reed nodded in acknowledgement and looked down at the top of Jean's head, which was currently resting on his chest. He noticed that she'd stopped crying but had begun to shiver. Her hands were still laced together behind one of his shoulders, effectively locking her arms in place and ensuring that he couldn't go anywhere without bringing her along.

"Commander, could you hand over that blanket?" It had been thrown to the side when they'd woken up and Reed couldn't exactly get up to retrieve it at the moment.

Trip reached across the floor and then laid it over his two entwined crewmates. "I'll, uh, go stand watch or something."

He had nothing against Reed, but seeing Jean clinging to him like that made Trip feel more than a little uncomfortable.

"No, Trip, you stood watch last time. The captain'll be here in two hours, so why don't you try to sleep until then?" Jean had turned so she was facing Trip, but after he nodded in agreement to her suggestion she turned her face back into Reed's chest.

"Sir... " The word was half-muffled into the cloth of his tunic. The soft fabric pressed against her face, warm and comforting in the otherwise dank cell.

"Yes, Ensign?"

She smiled. Since she was using his chest as a pillow, when he spoke she could hear his voice vibrating deep inside him a few seconds before he spoke the words aloud. "You really do make an excellent pillow."

Reed let a relieved smile spread across his face. "Happy to help. So, does this mean that you're back?"

Not exactly sure, she shrugged against his shoulder. "I guess so. I'm alright... ish."

His smile broadened at the use of one of her favorite nonsense words. _She'll be fine._ "Alrightish, eh? Well, that's better than nothing."

All was quiet in the cell until Reed inhaled sharply, causing his chest to expand and consequently lifting Jean's head a few centimeters into the air. He coughed a few times and hissed through his teeth afterwards, wincing and holding his side with an expression of suppressed pain on his face.

"Dusty down here, isn't it?"

Reed nodded, trying to clear his throat without any more coughing but not adding anything else to her statement.

"Are you alright? I noticed that you were wincing after you coughed."

_She's definitely fine, and back in doctor mode no less._ "My side hurts a bit, but I don't think it's anything serious."

She nodded, not actually agreeing with him but playing along for the moment. "Would you mind if I took a few scans, just to be sure?"

Without waiting for his answer, she shifted her body slightly and reached out to grab the med kit. Her hand crept out from beneath the warm blanket, groping blindly along the dirt floor until it encountered a smooth metallic corner, then a flat side and then another corner.

"Jean, Trip already scanned me earlier."

She smirked at him, momentarily suspending her search for the scanner. "When did he get his M.D.? Just let me take a few scans to assure myself that you're okay… Ha, found you!" She slid the kit over and then fumbled it open, found the medical scanner and then quickly retrieved it and turned it on.

Before scanning Reed, she aimed the blue glow from the scanner over towards Trip to see what he was doing. In the faint colored light, she could see that he was sitting hunched up against the wall near the door with his head resting on one knee. He was breathing steadily and seemed to be asleep. When the light hit his face, he woke up briefly, turned his head away from it and mumbled something about plasma relays before falling back asleep.

"Is he asleep?"

Reed was looking at her expectantly. She nodded, smirking. "And dreaming about engineerinng components. Now, let's see about you... "

She swung the scanner around so that the blue light washed over Reed and fell onto the floor in a puddle. "Wouldn't you get better readings if you moved?"

"And give up such a comfy pillow? I can get good readings from where I am, but thanks for your concern. Hmm."

"What do you see?"

"A few bruised ribs and a mild concussion. It would be best if..." She trailed off, shook her head and started to laugh.

"I'm sorry, but what's so funny about my injuries?"

She continued to laugh helplessly for a few seconds and then regained enough control to speak. "It wasn't your injuries that were funny, it was the ad-advice I was about to give you..." She started to laugh again.

Reed looked at her as though she were going insane. "And this advice... ?"

Jean bit her lip and got a look on her face that she always wore when she was about to let someone in on a great private joke. "Tr- try to avoid any mo- more physical confrontations for a while..."

Seconds later she heard a low rumbling start deep within Reed's chest, which then erupted into a deep and rich laugh. They both lay there laughing for some time, enjoying the simple sensation of mirth. After such a hectic and terrifying day, just being able to laugh unrestrainedly was a great relief, until...

"Owch! Ohh, ow."

Immediately Jean stopped laughing and looked at him with a mixture of guilt and concern on her face. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. Did the laughing hurt your side?"

After closing his eyes and taking a few slow breaths, Reed shook his head. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that she was looking up at him from where her head was resting on his chest. Seeing how worried she was, he smiled reassuringly and patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. It didn't feel all that bad, and to tell the truth I haven't laughed like that in a good long while. It was worth the pain."

After giving him a skeptical look, she turned off the scanner and put it back in the medkit. "Well, I'm sorry to say that there isn't much I can do for you at the moment. An anesthetic would help reduce the pain but it would also make you feel a bit foggy, and that wouldn't be helpful when we have to fight our way out of here."

Both of them were quiet for a while, thinking about that eventual fight and mentally weighing the odds. Four Starfleet personnel against god only knows how many guards and soldiers... Their chances weren't good, to be perfectly honest, but they did have Lorrister on their side, and whatever guards were still loyal to him would probably help too, so the more she thought about it the less hopeless it seemed.

Suddenly and for no obvious reason she started crying again, but now the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Since she was being so quiet it was a few minutes before Reed noticed that anything was wrong. It was only when her tears began to fall on his tunic and dampen part of it that he looked down at her quizzically. One of his arms was still wrapped protectively around her and he used that hand to gently squeeze her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Ensign?" She could hear the concern and confusion in his voice.

Embarrassed, she hid her face in the loose fabric of his tunic, grabbing a handful of the cloth in her fist and using it to wipe away her tears. At the same time she lightly hit his chest with her other hand in frustration. "I'm sorry. I- I don't know why..."

Reed started gently rubbing her back again, wanting to comfort her but feeling more than slightly awkward. The first time he'd seen her cry he'd understood; she was terrified and very upset and had acted it, but now she seemed calm despite the tears which neither of them could seem to explain.

_The best thing I can do is try to comfort her, never mind understanding what's wrong._

"Don't worry about it, Ensign. We've all been through a lot today and we're not out of the woods yet. It makes perfect sense that you'd be upset."

A bitter chuckle into his tunic was followed closely by Jean looking up to meet his gaze. "Oh? So why am I the only one in the room who's crying and doesn't know why?"

"Really, Ensign, you should know the answer to that." He couldn't help smiling at the answer he'd come up with, despite the fact that she was still looking at him tearfully. "The commander's asleep and I'm simply too stoic to cry."

This managed to coax a weak grin out of Jean before she let her head rest on his warm chest again.

"I suppose that's true... " She was quiet for a while but her tears didn't stop flowing. Reed could only tell because he felt the wet spot on his tunic continue growing. Finally she broke the silence with a low "Sir?"

"Yes, Ensign?"

"I don't understand. Why I'm such a mess, I just don't understand it..."

He held her tighter while continuing to rub her back comfortingly. "It's alright, Ensign. Just… try to relax and fall asleep. We all need to be alert for when we're breaking out of here, remember? But don't worry about it, I'm looking out for you."

She nodded tiredly, sneaking a glance over to where Trip was still sound asleep at the base of the wall.

"He's got the right id- _*yawn*_ idea. Think I'll take your advice about the sleeping. It's been a really long day. _*yawn*_ You promise there won't be any funny business?"

He frowned, reminding himself to 'speak' with those guards later on. "You have my word, Ensign. I'll be a gentleman and I'll deck anyone who comes close to doing otherwise."

She snuggled into his chest contentedly and smiled, although a few tears were still sliding down her cheeks.

"Sir, you make me feel safe." The words were mumbled into his shirt and he barely caught them, but they made him smile and hold her even closer.

Jean cried herself to sleep soon afterwards and Reed drifted off a few minutes later, but only after he'd sworn to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect her until they were safely back aboard Enterprise.


	8. Anything That Can Go Wrong

8

A dungeon somewhere on Chalderon IV, 2134 hours, August 16 2151

Quick shuffling footsteps in the hallway outside the cell alerted Trip and Reed to the approach of someone who wasn't one of the guards. They looked at each other across the darkness while Trip moved to stand up next to the door. Neither one of them voiced the question they both wanted to ask, but it was answered a few seconds later.

"Trip, Malcolm? Are you in there?" The voice was low but unmistakably belonged to the Captain. Both men inside the cell smiled in relief and nodded to each other.

"We're here, Cap'n, and so's Jean."

"Good. I only remember the locking combination for one of the cells." He grunted, shifting his hold on something to try and get his hands free. "I just hope its the code for this one... and that our friend Lorrister knows his stuff. So far, though, he's batting a thousand."

While they were talking Reed sat up and gently shook Jean's shoulder. "Wake up, Ensign."

She was still using his chest as a pillow and had curled herself around his middle. When he spoke, she stirred slightly but didn't seem to wake up. "Mmhng."

He shook his head. She'd warned him that she was a very heavy sleeper, but he'd thought that she was exaggerating. Now as he shook her shoulder more roughly and she still didn't wake up, he realized that she'd been serious. "Ensign, you need to wake up."

She made a soft petulant sound and pulled the blanket closer to herself, nuzzling her face further into his shoulder and muttering, "Just five more minutes. I'm not late for my shift yet."

As amusing as this was, Reed was beginning to get annoyed. He decided to be patient but firm with her. He sat up slightly, forcing her to sit up as well, and then resumed shaking her. "Ensign, you're not on Enterprise and it isn't morning. The captain's here to let us out of the cell so we can escape."

Her eyes opened slowly and focused little by little. As soon as she was mostly awake she rubbed a hand over her face and gave a disappointed groan.

"Ughh. I was hoping it'd all just been a bad dream." She smiled weakly up at Reed who gave her a sympathetic shake of his head and a small grin as he pushed back the blanket.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Ensign, but it really happened."

There was a muffled series of tones as Archer activated the keypad and a rusty clank as he opened the cell door. He stepped partially inside and looked around at his people, making sure to hold the door open. "Everyone alright?"

They all nodded. "A few bumps 'n bruises, Cap'n, but other 'n that we're alright. So, uh, what's the plan for getting outta here?"

Archer came all of the way into the cell but still kept one hand behind himself to hold the door open while he talked with Trip. "We're supposed to go down this corridor and follow it for three turns. Then we take a left up a flight of stairs and after that Lorrister'll meet up with us and tell us what to do."

The engineer looked at his captain appraisingly. He trusted Archer unquestioningly, but ...

"Cap'n," he scrubbed a knuckle at his forehead and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "Are you sure we can trust this Lorrister guy? I mean, he could just be leading us into another trap."

Archer nodded, crinkling his brow. "I've thought of that, but he's proven himself to be trustworthy. After Jean got caught he made sure the guards didn't know I was alive and sneaking around. He doesn't think his people have the right to hold us captive so he wants to help us escape. Besides, if it comes down to a fight he's with us and then he'll be able to see which soldiers are still loyal to him and who's loyal to Rostin. I've made up my mind, Trip. We're going to do as he says."

By now Reed was satisfied that Jean was fully awake so he left her and had been packing up the medkit while the other men talked. Once the kit was packed he came over to stand by Trip. It seemed like he had something to say and the captain nodded to encourage him. "Malcolm?"

He hesitated so the Captain pressed him slightly. "I'd appreciate your opinion."

"Well sir, from what you've said it sounds like this Lorrister can be trusted and I don't think he'll try anything funny, but his position is fairly weak from a tactical standpoint."

The pleased smile on Archer's face turned into a frown. "Go on."

"Sir, he isn't actually in charge around here and I assume that his influence is very limited. Even if he wants to help us I'm not sure that he'd be able to actually do it." After he spoke Reed looked over to Trip, hoping that the other man would back him up.

Archer stood in thought weighing his options and looking at his officers.

_They're capable and intelligent people so if they agree that it's a bad idea... no. I'm the captain and I'm responsible for my crew's safety, and right now trusting Lorrister is the best choice I've got for getting my people out of here._

He shook his head. "I don't like it any more than you do, but its not like we have too many options right now. We're gonna follow his lead."

Neither of them looked too happy but they both nodded and started getting ready to leave. Reed double-checked that everything was put away properly in the medkit while Trip gave the cell a last minute check for equipment and Jean went to stand next to the captain.

"How are you doing, Ensign?"

She looked up at him and shrugged. "I'll be better once we're back on Enterprise, sir."

He smiled and patted her shoulder in a reassuring way, so he was surprised when she flinched slightly under his hand. Although he was confused he didn't get a chance to ask her what it was about because just then Reed and Trip came over.

"All set to go, Cap'n. After you."

He nodded and they all set out with Archer in the lead and Reed acting as the rearguard, just in case. They walked through the empty corridor, pausing every so often as though they were expecting several guards to appear the next corner. None did and they kept moving forward, eventually reaching the stairs. Once they got to the stairs there was nothing for them to do but go half-way up the flight and then wait.

This didn't suit Reed who, at a nod from the captain, drew out his phase pistol and continued up the stairs alone.

Meanwhile Archer looked his people over and saw that they were both sporting new bumps and bruises. "How've the guards been treating you?"

Trip shrugged non-committally. The interrogation had been brutal, but he couldn't see the point in telling Archer about it just then. The man had other things to worry about, and being told what had happened to all of them right then would only serve to make him angry and distract him. "Not too bad, I 'spose, but they haven't been treatin' us like royalty. They got rough during the questioning and weren't too gentle about putting us in the cell but they've treated us pretty decently for the most part. With a couple exceptions."

Reed had come back downstairs while he was talking and they looked at each other knowingly before glancing over at Jean. All three of them were unnaturally quiet for a minute or so, during which Jean hunched her shoulders and shifted uncomfortably.

Trip moved towards her and protectively put an arm around her. She smiled very slightly and leaned into him. Reed had started to come towards her too, planning to do the same thing as Trip, but instead he settled for just patting her arm reassuringly. In answer she nodded and mouthed 'thank you' to him.

It was obvious to Archer that something had happened to the three of them down in the cells, but he could wait to find out what it was after they got back to the ship. Right then, he wanted to know what Reed saw when he went up the stairs.

"Report, Lieutenant."

"Sir, these stairs lead back to the chamber we were brought into when we were blindfolded. There are roughly a dozen guards posted at all the exits and it looks like the next shift is about to come down to the cells. If you don't mind my saying so captain, we're sitting ducks on this staircase. Those guards will be coming down any minute now and they'll be sure to see us if we don't get out of sight."

"That will not be a problem." Lorrister stepped out of a small door to one side of the stairs and approached the away team. "This staircase is not used by the guards most of the time, only when they are all summoned to duty for an attack."

"It's about time you showed up." Archer smiled to show that he wasn't actually annoyed, while Reed eyed Lorrister distrustfully.

The lieutenant crossed his arms. "You certainly took your time getting here."

"My apologies, I had to avoid being seen. Fortunately I know this building well, including it's hidden passages. I do hope that the guards have not mistreated you," he added earnestly, noting the various scrapes, bruises, and the disheveled state of the escapees.

Trip gave him a hard, angry stare. "You might want to teach your guards some manners. They tried to have a good time with Jean. We had to fight them off of her." His voice was tight with anger and Archer could tell that the engineer was just barely keeping himself from shouting.

A look of understanding crossed Archer's face while Lorrister seemed shocked by this and bowed low to them. "I am truly sorry. If there is anything that I can do to make amends... "

"Just get us out of here safely and there won't be any hard feelings." Reed was giving him the same angry stare that Trip was, but he looked over to Jean to check that she didn't mind being spoken for. She answered with a silent nod and a tiny smile.

The princep bowed to them again, even more motivated to help them now than he had been before. "Very well then. If you'll follow me, I will guide you to the nearest exit. To reach it we will need to cross the main counsel chamber. These men are loyal to me..." he gestured to three soldiers who had emerged from the same small passageway. "They will loosely bind your hands with ropes so that it will appear to any observer as though they are guarding you. In this way I will be able to lead you across the counsel chamber without arousing suspicion."

Trip narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Hold on. You mentioned hidden passageways. Wouldn't that be less risky than crossing the main chamber?"

"Perhaps, but this way the fact that your cell is empty will not seem suspicious. If anyone claims that you have escaped, I will simply explain that I wished to speak with you in a more pleasant setting in a ploy to obtain information from you. This will give us more time to leave the complex and for my men to lead you through the woods to your vehicle."

The men looked at each other skeptically. "Bind my hands first," said Reed. "I'd like to examine the knots your guards plan to use."

When he saw that they planned to use a kind of knot which would come undone easily he voiced his approval and made sure that the guards tied everyone else's hands in exactly the same way. The whole group then proceeded up the stairs and into the counsel chamber with Lorrister in the lead, followed by the away team in single file flanked on either side by Lorrister's men and with the third guard bringing up the rear.

They made it halfway across the chamber without any problems, passing the dozen or so guards who were standing by the doorways. None of them batted an eyelid at the procession until four guards came running out of one of the stairwells leading to the cells.

"The prisoners have escaped! The prisoners have escaped!"

Suddenly all of the guards around the chamber tensed and came to attention like dogs trying to sniff out a scent. Lorrister and his group froze for an instant, but then he continued on forward and the away team followed. When the guards still seemed suspicious, Lorrister spoke up.

"Stand at ease men, there has been no escape. I needed to speak with these people and I did not want to do so down in the cells. As I have just said, there has been no escape."

The group of guards who had come up from the cells hurried towards the small procession. They were joined by Rostin, who had heard their shouts and came rushing out of one of the rooms adjoining the main chamber.

"Princep! I was not informed that you would be dealing with the prisoners." He approached the older man, wearing an expression of confused anger when he caught sight of Archer. "And– and you! You were killed in this very room, before my eyes!"

Archer eyed his enemy, a man who had captured, interrogated and imprisoned his people. "I got better." His voice was hard and his hands were slowly curling into fists. There was nothing he wanted to do more than knock Rostin flat on his ass, but knew that it was Lorrister's place, and not his, to set the man straight.

"I wasn't aware that you needed to be informed." When Lorrister didn't show any signs of backing down, Rostin stepped towards him so that their faces were nearly touching.

"You damn well were aware of it!" He hissed. "I think you've forgotten your place, old man..."

Lorrister drew himself up to his full height and towered over the younger man. "Do you mean as regional Princep and administrator of this facility? No, Rostin, I have. For too long, but not any longer. I'm taking back my rightful place as..."

Now Rostin had had enough. He was by nature a calculating man and not given to displays of temper, but this old man standing in front of him, acting as though he was still in charge was too much. Didn't this relic understand? He was a dying breed. _I'll have to explain it to him._ He grabbed Lorrister's badge of office, his staff, and tried to wrest it away from him.

Surprised by the viciousness of the attack, Lorrister fell back a few steps. One foot became tangled in the hem of his robes and he tripped, losing his balance and falling to the floor. He let go of the staff as he fell, using his hands to catch himself. Seizing this opportunity, Rostin swept up the staff as he continued forward, advancing on the older man and preparing to deal him a crushing blow.

Jean couldn't stand to see the merciless beating which Rostin was obviously planning on giving to Lorristor, so she stepped out of her place in line. Because the scuffle was only happening a few meters away, she didn't have to go far to break it up. When Reed and Trip saw her move they tried to stop her, but they weren't quick enough. They had a pretty clear idea of what she was about to do and they knew how Rostin was likely to react. They'd both learned – the hard way – that Rostin was not a forgiving soul. However, what took place next went so quickly that no one, except the two people directly involved in it, could have done anything to stop it.

Jean ran the few steps over to him and slammed into him with her body, throwing him off balance. "Hey, Rostin. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" It just so happened that Rostin was only a tiny bit taller than Jean.

He whirled around, angry that his throttling of Lorristor had been delayed but also flabbergasted at the audacity of this prisoner.

"You foolish woman," he sneered. "I'll teach you to disrespect me."

She was about to grace him with a blistering retort when she found that, suddenly, she couldn't speak. He'd done something to her, but what? Confused and feeling strange, she looked down at herself. The pain made her woozy, as did the realization of what had just happened. She slowly turned back to the rest of the team, and they were appalled to see a metal hilt sticking out of her right side. A spot of bright red quickly sprung up around it, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to her knees, soundlessly crumpling to the ground.


	9. Will Go Wrong

9

"No!"

Before Archer could even get his body to react, Reed was already crouched on the ground next to her. His cry hung on the air, sounding like that of a wounded animal. He slid his hands out of the ropes as his eyes flicked from her face to her side, trying to assess her injury without the aid of a scanner.

_I think the blade needs to come out, but not before there's a bandage handy_. "Trip, the medkit!"

In a flash Trip was next to him, opening the kit and tossing the scanner to Reed. Once Reed nodded that her airway was clear, Trip took out an oxygen mask and pressed it to her face. The inside of the mask began to fog up slightly, reassuring them that she was indeed breathing. "Can you... ?"

Reed found the pressure gauze right away. He held it in one hand, taking hold of the dagger with his other and preparing to pull it out. He didn't look up for an instant. "I can handle it, sir, but would you be kind enough to help the captain take care of the guards? My hands are a little full at the moment."

Trip nodded but grasped Reed's arm before he stood up, looking intently into the other man's worried eyes. "Take care of her, Malcolm. Here." He took out his communicator and opened it, holding it out to the other man. "Get Phlox to talk you through it, just in case…" His mouth twitched nervously as he trailed off.

_Just in case you don't know what you're doing_. Reed nodded curtly and Trip left his field of vision, heading back to stand with Archer as the lieutenant got to work.

His fingers tensed on the hilt as he steeled himself to draw the blade out of her side, but then he stopped and shook his head. _I have to be sure about this_. He let go of the blade and reached for the communicator. "Lieutenant Reed to Enterprise."

Less than a second passed before Subcommander T'Pol's voice answered his hail. "Go ahead, Lieutenant. Has your situation improved since the captain hailed us?"

He let out a quiet, frustrated breath. _There's no time for this!_ "The captain released us from the cell, but we've run into some trouble. I need to speak with Doctor Phlox right away."

A brief, tense silence, then "has someone been injured?"

He stole a glance at his friend, lying on the ground beside him. "Yes."

She was still breathing, which reassured him, but she hadn't moved at all and she was still unconscious. A few trickles of blood had collected on her skin around the dagger and the bleeding didn't seem too serious, but his scans showed that she was also bleeding internally. "Ensign Olenick has been stabbed."

Somehow saying it aloud made the situation more real, which in turn made him even more stressed than he already was. The silence from the other end of the communication didn't help at all. He imagined Travis and Hoshi sitting at their stations on the bridge, looking shocked...

T'Pol's unnervingly even voice broke into his thoughts. "Understood, Lieutenant. I'll put you through to Sickbay."

He nodded. "Thank you. Doctor? Are you there? I need you to talk me through what I have to do. I'm transmitting data from the medical scanner now."

To his relief, he heard Phlox's voice come through. "I'm here, Lieutenant. The scans are coming up on my screen. Hmm... It looks like the blade is lodged in her sixth intercostal space and has lacerated part of her liver and right kidney. Her respiration and pulse look good, and she doesn't seem to have lost too much blood so far. Have you removed the weapon?"

Reed shook his head. "Not yet. I was just about to..."

"No!" The urgency in Phlox's voice startled him. "Pressure from the knife is keeping the bleeding in check. If you remove it now, she may not make it back alive. You need to stabilize the knife so it won't injure her further when she has to be moved."

"Alright," Reed said, quickly moving his hand away from the dagger hilt. "So how should I do that?"

"Just pack gauze around the blade and tape it in place. It will hold the knife steady for the time being and provide additional pressure to slow the bleeding. Also, you have to reduce the chances of infection."

Reed felt his heart suddenly lift. "I know how to do that."

The guards still loyal to Lorrister had rounded on Rostin's men and were standing with the Starfleet officers. All hell broke loose around him, but all Reed saw, all he heard, was the task at hand. He found a pair of scissors in the kit, sealed in a sterile bag, and cut the pressure bandage into smaller pieces. Quickly but carefully, he cut away the torn fabric around the site of the wound, next cleaning the area and applying a salve to the gauze to prevent an infection. Finally, he pressed the gauze to her side and began bandaging it securely. He held the small gauze pad in place with one hand, holding a roll of medical tape in the other as he tore off a length of it with his teeth.

He smoothed tape across one edge of the gauze, pulling so the bandage pressed firmly against one side of the blade. "Damn... I hope I'm doing this correctly..." he muttered to himself.

"I'm sure you are."

Startled by her voice, he looked over to see that she was squinting up at him. Once he'd seen her face, she let her head drop back to the ground, where it landed with a dull thump. "Did you apply the coagulating agent? It'd help slow the bleeding... Sir, can you hear me?" Her voice was just above a strained whisper.

"Uh, yes, Ensign. Where is the coagulant?"

She blinked, trying to focus on part of the ceiling instead of on what Reed was doing. "Tube in the kit. Says 'coagulant' on it."

Reed shook his head, smiling as he looked inside the kit. _She's being cheeky. Well, that's good, at least._ "Right. Found it. So... here, I'll just put it on the underside of the gauze, then."

He lifted an edge he hadn't taped in place yet and applied some of the sticky gel to the gauze. As he squeezed the tube, he looked at the underside of the bandage and was shocked by what he saw. The gauze was almost completely soaked through with blood.

"Damn..." he swore softly, shaking his head. _I'll need to put more gauze on top of the existing bandage... Can I even do that? Is that proper procedure?_

Phlox chimed in. "You're doing fine, Lieutenant. If it bleeds through, just tape on another layer of gauze. Don't replace the first bandage."

He nodded in relief, grabbing more gauze pads from the kit and taping them in place. _It certainly helps to have someone around who knows this stuff_. "How are you holding up, Ensign?"

She let her head fall to the side, resting a cheek on the ground as she took in the chaos around them. "Oh, 'm great" she slurred. "Bleeding from a stab wound, lying helpless in the middle of a battlefield, an being a liability. How're you?"

No answer.

There were sounds of a struggle nearby, but she'd assumed that Reed wasn't one of the people involved in it.

_Maybe he answered but I didn't hear him_.

"Sir?" she tried to raise her voice, but the words just came out as a feeble croak. His hand wasn't pressing down on her bandage anymore and she was dimly aware of her right arm lifting itself up, moving towards her injury to apply the needed pressure. "You alright?"

"Ensign?" She heard Phlox's voice coming from the communicator, but she couldn't see where Reed had put it. "What's wrong?"

She hesitantly looked around. "Reed's gone. I dunno where..."

Phlox sounded worried. "Ensign? Ensign, I can barely hear you. Did you say the lieutenant left you by yourself?"

She groped around for the communicator. Not finding it, she tried to speak up so that Phlox could hear her. "He's gone..."

Trying to raise her voice prompted a few harsh coughs which made the sharp, throbbing pain in her side increase tenfold. It hurt so much that she could barely think straight. When her mind finally cleared, she realized that Reed still hadn't answered her. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to make some sense of that.

_Why wouldn't he answer? He wouldn't not answer, unless something happened that stopped him. _

Blinking, she lifted her head to see what was going on. At first she didn't see anything except for dim shapes moving around at the edges of the room.

_Fighting. People, and they're all fighting. But where's Reed?_

She turned her head, looking for him and starting to get worried. Then she saw them. They were less than three meters away, so she was surprised it had taken her so long to spot them. One of the guards had Reed in a headlock, but a second later Reed flipped the man over his shoulder and onto the ground. Looking at the ground, she saw scuffmarks moving away from her.

_So when the guard attacked Reed he tried to draw the fight away from me_. She smiled. _Nice of him. He's nice..._ she shook herself. _No, I can't drift off to la-la land. Not yet. If I'm on my own, I've gotta be able to think straight._

She took a moment to brace herself, and then, before she lost her nerve, she inhaled deeply. It felt like she was being run through again, but the pain woke her up.

The guard was larger than Reed and looked like more than a match for him, but she knew that the armory officer was skilled in hand-to-hand combat. However, the guard was forcing Reed back towards her by putting his weight behind every hit and punch he threw.

When the two of them were only a few steps away from her, Jean recognized the guard. He was one of the brutes from down in the cells, the one who'd tried to force himself on her.

_Give 'im hell, sir._

She smiled when Reed landed a double kick to the man's chest and noticed the expression on her superior's face. It was the look of concentration he usually wore during a fight, but something else was there too. A glimmer of uncharacteristic satisfaction in his eye, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth each time he dealt the other man a blow.

_He must've recognized the guard too. And now he's avenging my honor or something. I hope he doesn't get sloppy..._

The guard stumbled back a step after receiving two kicks and a punch. Reed was about to rush him again, to go for another hit, when he heard a low, confused voice behind him.

"Sir... why do hand-to-hand when you've got a phase pistol?"

Reed blinked and shook his head very slightly, simultaneously amused and annoyed at himself.

_I forgot all about it. Must've been the adrenaline._

The guard used this momentary distraction as an opportunity to grasp Reed by the throat with a meaty hand.

Reed reached down to remove the phase pistol from it's holster while trying to pry the guard's fingers away from his neck with his other hand. Reed's skillful fingers felt the sides of the phase pistol, trying to determine without looking down whether it was set to 'stun' or 'kill.'

_If it isn't set on stun the captain will have my head... not that it'll matter if this brute chokes me first._

Gently curving metal passed under his fingertips as he searched its surface. It was smooth and cool to the touch, its evenness only interrupted by a few small notches surrounding the end of the barrel and further back, on the left side...

_There you are. Nub tilted forward means it __is__ set to stun. Now then..._

He held the phase pistol alongside his hip as he squeezed the trigger, hitting his assailant squarely in the gut. Reed allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction when the hand on his throat fell away. A surprised look crossed the other man's face just before he crumpled to the ground. As soon as he was sure that the man was alive and unconscious Reed stood up and did a slow turn, scanning the room for problem spots.

A sudden movement by one of the doors caught his eye. Seconds later the two guards were lying on the floor on either side of the door, unconscious, as Reed moved on to his next targets.

Many of the guards were still fighting each other, but he couldn't tell which men were loyal to Lorrister from far away and he didn't want to accidentally stun any of their allies. He turned further and saw that Archer was backed up against a wall trying to fight off three guards. Even as he aimed his pistol at one guard, he couldn't help thinking _Americans. Why is it that they all want to be cowboys?_

As the second guard sank to his knees, Archer caught sight of Reed and nodded his gratitude, flashing a huge smile at his officer. With a little prodding from Archer the third guard surrendered, throwing his weapon away and then sitting down on the ground with his hands on his head.

Trip was crouched in front of an open metal panel between two of the doorways and a few of 'their' guards were defending him from the other guards while he tried to hotwire the circuitry.

Just before all hell broke loose, one of Rostin's men had entered a command on a keypad which had sealed and then locked all the other doors. Now Trip was trying to undo that command so the away team could actually leave the chamber and get to the pod. His bodyguards didn't seem to be having any problems defending him, so Reed kept turning until he was facing the center of the room.

Rostin and Lorristor were still grappling with each other on the central dais, but Rostin had gotten control of the staff and was holding it across Lorristor's throat; he was using it to strangle the older man. Before his mind had finished processing what he'd just seen, Reed noticed that he'd raised his right arm and was aiming the phase pistol at Rostin.

The Princep was fighting for breath, trying to push the staff away from his throat to no avail. His vision was becoming blurry and dark spots were dancing before his eyes.

_He will actually kill me. I never believed he would actually do it..._

He was vaguely aware of a noise behind him. It sounded like a soft crackle of lightning followed by a muffled grunt, but he didn't think much about it. He had other things on his mind, like trying to remove the pressure from his windpipe and draw air into his lungs. Lorrister had just resigned himself to his fate when his prayers were suddenly answered.

The hands holding the staff against his throat went slack and fell away as the staff itself clattered to the ground. Gratefully Lorrister gulped at the air before he turned around, wanting to know who had helped him. The first thing he saw was Rostin lying on the ground and then his eyes flicked up to see Reed standing a couple dozen meters away. His weapon was still trained on Rostin's motionless form, as though he expected the man to sit up and attack someone.

Lorrister smiled at him in thanks. It was a dignified, reserved smile, one which Reed could easily respect. He returned the smile and nodded seriously, looking away from Lorrister for a second to assess the situation in the large room, checking all around for problems he might have missed on his first sweep.

_Captain Archer is safe, Commander Tucker too... Now we just have to get the ensign back to the pod. Once we're back on Enterprise Phlox'll take care of her. She's strong, she'll be alright. We just need to get her back to the ship right away. I can't believe it, but somehow we actually won. I really wasn't expecting it to be this easy, all things considered..._

When he looked back at the Princep, he was surprised to see that the smile had faded from the older man's face and was replaced by a look of shocked fear.

Before he even had a chance to be confused, Reed heard a heavy footstep behind him and felt something hard and coldly metallic press against the back of his neck.

"Drop your weapon if you want to live."

It occurred to Reed that the person behind him might be bluffing. After all, he had heard of people robbing banks with toy guns and holding hostages with curling irons. His skin told him that the object was round and smooth and it had an empty area in the middle.

_Damn, it feels like the end of a gun barrel._

Reed blinked and then swallowed hard, knowing that turning around or making any move at all would be suicide. He fingered the phase pistol in his hand, nervously tightening his hand on the grip.

_Why the bloody hell didn't I look behind myself when I was checking for hostiles?_

He chewed the inside of his lip nervously as his eyes darted around the room. It seemed that the captain and Trip were unaware of his situation and he knew that he couldn't use the phase pistol, but he was still unwilling to leave himself defenseless.

"I said DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

The shout was right next to his ear, so loud and sudden that it made him jump slightly.

_I knew it was too easy ..._

Reluctantly he bent his right knee, not wanting to damage the phase pistol by letting it drop too far to the ground. He moved slowly to buy himself some time. "Alright, I'm putting it down."

He raised his voice more than was necessary as he spoke, hoping to attract Archer's or Trip's attention, but neither man was within his field of vision so he couldn't tell whether or not they had heard him.

When the pistol was on the ground he received a sharp prod in his neck, encouraging him to stand up. As soon as his hand was empty he felt vulnerable, licking dry lips and trying to think like a tactical officer instead of like a hostage.

"What are your demands? Perhaps we can negotiate ..."

A metallic click just behind his ear told him that the weapon was being cocked. _Think, Reed, think!_ he shouted at himself, squeezing his eyes shut to try to focus.

"No closer or he dies."

_Wait a tick. He wasn't talking to me, so who…?_

He opened his eyes to see that Lorrister had closed the distance between them and had stopped only a few meters away.

_Stalemate._

"Aaugh!"

Suddenly, the gun barrel fell away from Reed's neck and the guard cried out in pain and surprise as he fell to the ground. Reed whipped around to see his assailant lying in the dirt behind him and cradling his bleeding leg. He kicked the gun out of the man's hand, then he looked over at Jean and saw that she was holding the dagger in a bloody hand. He didn't know if the blood on her hand was her own or the guard's, but he hoped that most of it wasn't hers.

She smiled at him in a very self-satisfied way, following him with her eyes when he knelt down next to her.

"Ensign?"

He looked at her questioningly for a second before he resumed seeing to her wound. He was no doctor but he knew it was bad, and he knew that letting the bleeding go unchecked for even a few minutes hadn't done her any favors. And Phlox had warned him against removing the dagger. "How... what did you do to him?"

"Seems his leg is bothering him. It's that jackass guard from the cells, isn't it? The one who..."

Reed just nodded and she gritted her teeth, although he couldn't tell if it was from pain or anger. "...wanted to stab him, but could only reach his leg. …won't lose much blood. Unfortunately."

_Anger. That's definitely anger._

Reed threw a quick glance at his fallen enemy before turning back to her, at a loss for words. _Well, this is a new way to end a stalemate._ His silence didn't really surprise her and she closed her eyes while he tried to get the bleeding back under control.

"Couldn't let him shoot you." She said simply, wincing as he worked. "I saw you, an the dagger was here, so I grabbed it. Least I'm still thinking clearly."

_Not so clearly_. He paused briefly to take the dagger from her. Once it was out of her hand he put it aside, absently noting how the blade gleamed wetly in the room's low light. He couldn't help but wonder how much of the blood on it was hers and how much belonged to the guard. As soon as the wound was clear, blood had welled up from it and spilled onto the ground. Judging by how much was there, they had even less time to get her back to Sickbay.

Reed shook his head again, pressing more bandages to the wound. "And I don't suppose you had any other reason for wanting to harm him?"

She tried to flash him a weak smirk, but only ended up wincing. Especially when he pressed on the bandages. She got the feeling that the extra pressure on the gauze was some sort of reproach, and the idea of being scolded for saving his life annoyed her. She frowned at him, muttering, "couldn't let him shoot you. Already wanting to hurt him just made it easier." Her voice was very quiet, low, and she sounded like she was just barely holding on to consciousness.

"You should know better, Ensign. Phlox told me how important it was to not remove the weapon." His hands shook slightly as he reached for something in the med kit and his fingers left bloody smears on the brushed steel. A short while later, two sets of footsteps approached them, but Reed didn't notice until they stopped a meter or so away. When he heard them he whipped his head around, suddenly worried that he'd allowed someone to sneak up on him and the ensign.

_Not sure that I can properly defend her and myself from two assailants._

Reed was relieved beyond measure to see that it was the captain standing over him, with Lorrister at his shoulder.

"How is she, Malcolm?" The captain had crouched down beside his officer, surveying the man's attempt at being a battlefield medic.

Reed rubbed at his forehead with the back of his wrist. "Not good, sir. Pholx said that..." he trailed off suddenly, looking for the dropped communicator. He found it within seconds, grabbing it up from the dirt and speaking into it frantically. "Doctor? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Lieutenant! But where did _you_ go? I must say, it is never prudent to leave a patient by themselves, especially when their wounds are as serious as the ensign's. The scans you sent me are far from favorable, but providing that the weapon hasn't been removed, her chances for survival are good."

Reed hung his head. _She pulled it out to save me. __**I'm**__ supposed to be protecting __**her**__, and..._ _now I've failed, in almost every way possible, I've failed to protect her_. _She could die now because of my idiocy._

Archer looked from his shamefaced tactical officer to his wounded crewman. He couldn't help noticing that the blade wasn't sticking out of her any more. _No wonder Reed is less than happy_. Still, he put on his best brave face and took the ensign's hand in one of his, retrieving the communicator from Reed's loose grip with the other. "Doctor, it's the captain. What if the weapon has been removed. How bad?"

There was a brief crackling of static from the communicator, then "Critical. She must be taken to Sickbay or another medical facility within the next thirty minutes or else she won't survive."

Archer heard an odd noise from Reed and saw that the man was looking ashen, staring at his bloodied hands but not seeing them. "We'll get her back safe, Malcolm." The Lieutenant only shook his head in answer.

Jean had seemed oblivious to all around her until this point. She'd been somewhere nice, somewhere warm. Somewhere without any pain. She wanted to go back there, wherever it was, and stay. She closed her eyes against the suddenly harsh lights, letting her head drop to one side, her cheek pressing into the dirt floor. "Let's go back t' Enterprise. I'm n' good at dith scees." They had to guess at the last two words as she succumbed to unconsciousness again.

Lorrister nodded at her before turning to face Archer. "My men will guarantee you fast and safe passage out of the city, but I cannot offer you any protection beyond that."

Archer nodded curtly. "Thank you. My people and I appreciate your help."

"Got it!"

Trip's jubilant shout rang out across the large chamber, his joy at jury-rigging the doors to open seeming oddly inappropriate with Jean still lying there, still bleeding.

Archer moved to pick Jean up, but Reed beat him to it, protectively cradling her to his chest. The captain was about to say something, but one look at Reed's face let him know that any attempt to take her from the lieutenant would fail. Archer nodded his understanding and contented himself with closing and picking up the medkit.

"Alright, you heard the lady. Let's get her to the ship."


	10. Exit Strategy

10

Forest outside Chalderon IV's capital city, 2254 hours, August 16 2151

Lorrister assigned a few of his guards to protect the away team on their way out of the city, but the men stopped at the city gates, explaining that they were needed to help the Princep regain control. Archer thanked them for their help, and the team entered the forest. Trip and Reed led the way, carrying Jean on a stretcher, and the captian acted as rearguard for a while, just in case some of Rostin's men had followed them. After a short time, he noticed that parts of the path they were following were badly overgrown. Trip was walking ahead of Reed, and as a result he kept being buffeted by parts of the plants which overhung the path. Archer frowned when he saw a particularly large branch strike Trip's shoulder, causing him to almost drop his end of the stretcher. He managed to keep hold of it, but Jean was badly jostled in the process and she let out a pained groan. By that point, Archer was reasonably sure that they hadn't been followed, so he jogged up the path and started walking in front of Trip, holding back some branches and making sure that the engineer steered clear of others.

The path curved off to the right and as the team rounded the bend they saw that a fallen tree was blocking their way. It was too large to go around but low enough to climb over, unless of course someone wanted to climb over while holding a stretcher with someone lying on it. Archer solved the problem by climbing over and then telling the other men to lift the stretcher with Jean on it onto the tree trunk and slide her across it until he could grab hold of the handles. Once he had a good grip on the handles, Trip and Reed climbed over to join him. Both men moved slowly, trying to hide it when they grimaced in pain. Archer shook his head, deciding to take over carrying duties from Reed, since the lieutenant seemed to be hurt more badly than Trip.

As soon as he had climbed over, Reed stood by the trunk. "If you move forward a bit, Captain, I'll hold the stretcher steady until I can get hold of the other end."

Trip shook his head. "I'll help ya, Malcolm, but why don't you take a break from carryin' her?"

Reed was about to argue, but Archer stopped him, nodding to Trip to grab the foot of the stretcher. "You should rest for a while, Malcolm. In fact, we all need a short rest. We're close to where we left the pod, so once we find a good place to stop, Trip and I will try to locate it."

It just so happened that the perfect place to stop was a few meters in front of them. Archer and Trip walked a few steps into a clearing and gently put the stretcher on the ground. Even though they were very careful, the movement brought Jean out of unconsciousness. After coming to, she blinked slowly, looking around their new surroundings. If it weren't for the seriousness of their situation, Jean would have marveled at how beautiful the spot was. It looked like part of a fairytale illustration, complete with shafts of golden sunlight filtering down through the green leaves and even some melodic alien birdsong. She half expected to see some magical creature hop out of the bushes and offer the team a spell or elixir which would heal her and transport them all safely back to the ship. However, the team remained alone in the clearing and no miraculous escape presented itself.

With some effort, Jean stopped daydreaming and realized that the captain was talking to her.

"Trip and I are going ahead to try and find our way back to the pod, but Malcolm'll stay here with you." He looked at Reed who nodded in agreement and came over to sit near her.

Archer faced Reed and said more quietly "If this takes more than ten minutes, comm us. Scan her vitals every two minutes and send them up to Sickbay, and if anything happens, get in touch with Phlox."

Reed nodded, glancing down nervously at the ensign and then back at his captain. "Understood, sir."

"I'm just slowing you down."

Jean had tried to lever herself up on her left elbow, wanting to look straight at the captain, but she only managed to rise a centimeter or so off of the stretcher. She was panting heavily from the effort, and fresh beads of sweat stood out on her forehead. She held herself up for a few seconds before Reed moved in to help support her, gently easing her back onto the stretcher. Halfway there, he realized how much cold and damp air was near the ground and how much it would chill her, so instead he let her rest against his torso. She ended up sitting with her head resting in the middle of Reed's chest and her shoulders and back pulled halfway into his lap. He also took off his cloak and draped it over her, hoping to keep her as warm as possible.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ensign, nobody is going to be left behind."

While Reed tried to quietly reassure her, Trip and the captain followed a likely looking trail in the hopes that it would seem familiar and lead them back to the shuttle pod.

She tried to shake her head but only managed to wince. "No, sir... the transporter. I could beam back to Sickbay... get there faster and… wouldn't slow the team down."

He was genuinely surprised. "You're willing to trust that thing?"

She shrugged almost imperceptibly; if Reed hadn't been holding her he wouldn'tve noticed it. "'S better than bleeding to death down here, and Novakavitch and the captain went through it alright."

"When Novakavitch came out on our end, he had leaves and twigs sticking out of him."

She closed her eyes, feeling herself about to pass out, but she was too tired to fight it. "I don' mind leaves," she slurred.

Reed shook his head. "It wasn't pretty, Ensign."

She opened one eye, fixing him with a drowsy glare followed by an annoyed mumble. " …'s not my name."

"Jean…" Reed smiled, correcting himself. He was glad that at least she still felt well enough to be stubborn. The thought that she might not be around much longer hit him like a physical blow. God, he would miss this. The banter, the companionable meals… her warm smile. Just knowing that someone genuinely cared… He tensed his jaw, clamping down on the lump that was starting to form in his throat, and forced a stiff smile. "You are the most impossible woman I have ever met."

His voice was deeper than usual, husky, but she didn't seem to notice.

"You're no picnic… yourself." She smiled back at him, but then she caught her breath and tensed up, trying to fight off a sudden wave of pain. Because they were sitting so closely together, Reed could feel it each time she shuddered or winced, and each time he had to restrain himself from calling for help.

_The only people out here who'd hear me are the search patrols looking for us or Captain Archer, and the captain doesn't need any extra distractions. Just hold on for a few minutes, and if you have to call someone, call Phlox._

A few more groans from Jean had Reed reaching for his communicator. "Lieutenant Reed to Doctor Phlox."

The communicator crackled. "Phlox here."

"Doctor, I'm sending up my most recent scans." He put the communicator down, swapping it for a medical scanner and transmitting the information back to Enterprise. Both of Reed's arms were wrapped protectively around her and one of his hands was still applying gentle pressure to her bandage, so it took him a few seconds to retrieve the communicator once the scans had been sent off.

"Well, Doctor?"

Phlox sounded worried. "I'm afraid that her condition has worsened. It is imperative that she be treated in the next fifteen minutes."

Reed shook his head, even though he knew that the motion wouldn't be seen by Phlox. "I don't know if that is possible. The captain and Commander Tucker are looking for the pod, and I'm not sure how long it will take before they find it and we get under way."

"Malcolm…"

He jerked at her voice, surprised that she was still conscious. "Hold on a moment, Doctor. Yes, Jean?"

"I'm... I'm trying to be brave, sir, but..." She paused and added in a small voice "I'm scared."

She looked so small and vulnerable that all Reed wanted to do was hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, but all he could think of doing was running a hand along her arm and saying hollowly "Don't be silly, Jean, you'll be fine. We'll all be back on Enterprise before you know it, there's nothing to worry about."

A sad, wry smile appeared on her face. "We both know that isn't true. You heard what Phlox just said. There's a good chance that I could die..."

He frowned, hushing her sternly. "I won't hear that sort of talk. You're going to be alright… I'll make sure of it."

Jean seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open. She let her head loll to one side, smushing her cheek against his upper arm. "... promise you'll stick around, make sure I'm okay?"

Reed smiled and gave her the most reassuring look that he could muster. He might not be able to protect her any more than he already had, but at least now he could give her some comfort. "I promise, Jean. I'll stay with you until you're out of danger."

He was pleased to see her smile at his words, but she passed out a few moments later.

"It was good of you to reassure her, Lieutenant. Helping her to stay calm is critical at this stage."

Reed nodded, his mind barely registering the doctor's kind words.

When Archer and Trip came back they found Reed sitting with Jean and studying her vitals with a medical scanner. His comm sat open on the ground by his knee, with Phlox's voice crackling out of it. Hearing their approach, he looked up anxiously. "Any luck finding the pod?"

Archer nodded, indicating a break in the bushes. "It's down that path, about five minutes away. How is she?"

"I can't stop the bleeding... " He trailed off, looking from the medical scanner to Jean's wound and shaking his head, feeling utterly useless. "According to Phlox," he hung his head and swallowed, finding that the lump in his throat had grown.

Trip and Archer shared a worried look. For Reed to be so visibly distressed, the news had to be terrible. Archer took a step forward, glancing at the communicator. "What did Phlox say, Lieutenant?"

"If we can't get her to Sickbay in the next ten minutes…"

Trip scrubbed a hand over his face, uttering a soft "damn…", but Archer nodded decisively, moving to pick up Reed's comm. "Alright, then we'll use the transporter. Phlox," he spoke into it. "I want you standing by the transporter with a medical team, and T'Pol will have Lieutenant Hess meet you there to operate the console. Understood?"

The Vulcan's voice was heard, sounding steady as ever. "Yes, Captain."

Phlox chimed in, sounding grave. "We do not have much time, captain. At this point, we cannot afford to waste even a few seconds." There was a rustling sound as he moved, and Archer surmised that the doctor was speaking into a communicator while hurrying through the ship towards the transporter.

Reed squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his hands on the bandage, trying to slow the bleeding by applying more pressure. Jean moaned softly at the increase in pain, turning her head from one side to the other on the stretcher, but she didn't regain consciousness.

"Hess here, Captain. I'm at the console. We have a lock on her biosigns… everyone should stand back so we're sure to transport the right person."

"Understood." The captain started to nod, but Reed wouldn't move away from the stretcher. Archer shook his head, reaching out to put a hand on the man's arm. He knew that Reed and Jean were good friends, and this must be very hard for the lieutenant. "Malcolm…"

Reed looked up at him, and Archer was almost floored by the raw emotion that the usually stoic Armory Officer was showing. His steely eyes were dry, but they shone with an incalculable amount of pain and remorse. In spite of his disheveled and distruaght appearance, though, Reed's voice was firm. "With your permission, Captain, I'd like to go up with her."

Mindful of the ticking clock, Archer didn't hesitate to grant the request. "Archer to Hess. Reed is transporting up as well."

Hess' reply of "Understood," crackled through the comm. and Archer gave Reed a small smile.

"She'll pull through, Malcolm, if she's half as stubborn as you. Energize."

Reed couldn't even bring himself to smile at the quip, but he was saved from having to reply because just then he felt the warm tingle of the transporter engulf him and the forrest dissolved before his eyes.


	11. Somebody's Going To Emergency

11

When Jean opened her eyes a blur of light and color slowly came into focus, and she found herself looking up at a ceiling. She didn't bother trying to move, but after glancing around she realized that she was on the floor of the transporter pad. And she wasn't alone. Her upper body and her head were being supported by something warm and solid. Warm and solid and breathing. A momentary panic settled over her but lifted when she caught sight of the her companion's face. Relieved, she forced herself to exhale slowly, knowing that anything other than a slow deep breath would heighten the pain in her side.

_It's Lieutenant Reed. He carried you out of the city, remember? Now relax and stop being silly._

"If someone else wants to play Matah Hari next time, be my guest..." She broke off, wincing and closing her eyes before tiredly letting her head rest against Reed's warm shoulder. Without giving it any real thought, he held her closer and squeezed her hand sympathetically.

Reed wanted to help the ensign feel better, but he didn't know what to do. She'd saved his life and Captain Archer's on the planet and she'd gotten stabbed in the process. Now he held her in his arms on the transporter platform, wanting to do whatever he could to help her.

He owed her that much at the very least. Not because she'd made their escape possible and put her own life in jeopardy, but because he'd personally recommended her for this mission. She wouldn't have been in this mess if it weren't for him.

Yes, sometimes she was silly and highly unprofessional, but she was always good to have along on missions. Her bravery couldn't be questioned, she was a shrewd judge of character, and she had a great facility for deception. In fact, she'd been able to get the information needed to salvage today because of her talent as an actor. Even her reference to Matah Hari was accurate, with her acting chops she could be a good spy. Reed smiled briefly at the thought...

... until she whimpered softly and her fingers tensed on his neck, bringing him back to reality_. I really did a bang-up job protecting her_. He shook his head.

Her head began to roll to one side and she mumbled incoherently before pressing her cheek into his shoulder and tightening her hold on his neck. Getting increasingly worried, he grabbed her arm and lightly shook it. She shifted slightly in his arms, but her eyes remained closed.

Fortunately, Phlox arrived just then and got to work. After a quick glance at his patient, he shook his head grimly. "She's going into shock. We need to keep her warm and get her to Sickbay immediately. Corpsman, get her onto the gurney."

Jenkins, the corpsman, nodded, taking out a blanket from below the gurney and helping to spread it over the ensign. Once she was covered, he turned to Reed, moving forward to help lift the ensign out of Reed's arms. "Don't worry, sir. Phlox will fix her up in no time."

Reed instinctively tightened his hold on her. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't let go of her. Somehow, he had the feeling that if he didn't maintain some form of physical contact with her, she would slip away forever.

Now, even though his arms were getting tired, his back was starting to hurt again, and his ribs had been complaining for some time, he wasn't about to hand her over to someone else, even if the someone else was following orders. Reed tried to get to his feet, but burdened as he was by the ensign's weight, and impeded by his own injuries, he couldn't quite manage to stand up without help.

Without being asked, the corpsman helped Reed get up and kept a hand on the lieutenant's arm, making sure he was steady on his feet. All through this, Jean remained blissfully unaware. Jenkins removed his hand from Reed's arm and shot a glance at Phlox before turning back to the lieutenant. "Sir, at least let me help keep her steady while you move her."

Before Reed could protest, something unexpected happened. A sleepy female voice floated up from somewhere around his waist height.

"Don' tell me the pall-bearers are volunteerin' already."

Both men looked down in surprise and saw that Jean had partially opened her eyes. She was looking much the worse for wear but still faintly smirking up at them.

"Don' argue. Jus let 'im help if he wants to. 'kay?"

She sounded tired but insistent, so when Jenkins took a step towards him with his hands outstretched, Reed allowed the other man to support her other side as they stepped off of the transporter and made their way to lay her down on the gurney.

"Okay, Ensign, I'm letting him help." He checked her reaction and saw her smile faintly and then he felt her nod her head against his hand as they set her down. Without her in his arms anymore, he felt strangely cold.

As soon as she was on the gurney, Phlox busied himself cleaning a portion of her skin and inserting an IV catheter into the crook of her elbow. Once the needle was in, they set off for the turbolift at a good clip. The corpsman hooked up the line to a bag of whole blood which was held aloft on a hook attacked to the gurney, ensuring that gravity would make the liquid flow into her veins and replenish at least some of what she had lost. "How about you, Lieutenant, hmm?" Phlox didn't look up from tending to the ensign. "Are you injured?"

Reed shrugged, trying not to let his hand move from her shoulder. He was helping to push the gurney, which at least let him feel useful, but he still felt that he had to stay in contact with her as much as possible. He gave a tiny, dismissive shake of his head after giving himself a mental once-over. "Just a few cuts and bruises, doctor, nothing to write home about."

"He's lying, Phlox," Jean muttered. She sounded annoyed, but couldn't quite muster the energy to glare at Reed. "Three bruised ribs and a mild concussion… and that was before the fight we were just in."

The doctor looked at her for a moment and then at Reed, lifting one eyebrow in a fair impression of Sub-commander T'Pol. "Lieutenant?"

After a moment's hesitation, Reed nodded at the doctor, confirming that what Jean had said was true, and then fixed her with a mock glare. "Tattle-tale."

She smiled up at him with weak defiance. "Doesn't matter how bad off I'm... 'm still a doctor."

Her voice was softer now and she sounded mildly confused, almost unsure of what was going on. Reed wanted to keep her distracted and hide how worried he was, so he tried to keep talking to her. It was hard, though, for him to speak past the steadily growing lump in his throat. Much as he cared about her, he hadn't even considered the possibility of shedding any tears. After all, Reeds don't cry… but since he hardly had the best track record when it came to upholding family traditions, the sardonic part of his mind snickered that him breaking down and weeping wouldn't really come as a galloping shock to anyone.

He pushed those thoughts aside and spoke with forced optimism, "don't worry, Ensign, you're going to be okay."

There was a weak but distinct laugh, followed by the half-mumbled word 'doubtful.'

She was getting worse. Her breathing was becoming shallow and rapid, she was shivering and her skin was cold but slick with sweat.

"Take slow breaths, Ensign, in and out," Phlox instructed, reaching up to give the IV bag a squeeze and thereby sending more of the whole blood into her system.

She weakly shook her head. "Breathing hurts. It... hurts..."

Reed saw her wince at each breath and worried that the stab wound might have grazed or punctured her lung. His medical knowledge was very limited; he knew she was going into shock, but wasn't sure exactly what that meant in terms of her chances for survival, and he hadn't been confident in his interpretations of the medical scans which he had taken.

"I'm sorry that it hurts, Ensign, but try some deep breaths. In and out, that's right, just like Phlox said. That's good. Doctor, what I can do to help?"

Phlox shook his head as they neared the turbolift. "Push faster. There isn't room for all of us to be in the turbolift at once." Isaac, the corpsman, ran ahead and triggered the door to open so the doctor wouldn't be delayed. Phlox continued, "You and Mr. Jenkins will need to use the lift on the other side of Engineering and meet me in Sickbay. Go!"

* * *

Reaching the pod took less than the estimated time since the captain and Trip were in such a hurry, and they got there without much trouble. Archer took the helm and fired up the pod. It would be a minute or so before they could take off, and he entered the launch sequence in the meantime.

Trip stowed the away team medkit underneath one of the benches, then there was a loud chittering sound and he seemed to stumble over something.

"What the hell…?" Trip sputtered

Archer swiveled his chair around, looking back at Trip worriedly. "Everything okay back there?"

Trip had fallen back onto the opposite bench and perched on his chest, making soft chirping noises while its purple tufted-tail twitched back and forth, was Sextus, the alien squirrel they had encountered at the beginning of the mission.

Archer laughed, letting out a relieved breath and letting his hand go back up to the console. When he'd heard Trip's exclamation, he had started to reach for his phase pistol, but once he saw Sextus, he instantly relaxed.

"How did it get in here?"

After a glance at the console, Archer caught sight of the open side hatch and chuckled. "That's my guess…" he indicated the hatch with his chin, then turned back to the controls. "We're ready to launch. Close the hatch and I'll take us up."

Trip reached up and gently moved Sextus to one of the benches so he could get up. "You just sit tight right there, little guy." He stroked the soft fur between the animal's ears, and it made the same purring-cooing noise it had when he first petted it. Smiling at his success in getting the animal out of the way, Trip moved to the hatch. He closed and secured it, then moved to sit in the co-pilot's chair by Archer's left elbow, giving the captain a thumbs-up.

"All set to go, sir."

Sextus chirped nervously as the pod's thrusters came to life. It jumped down from the bench, all six of it's tiny feet skittering across the deck, and clambered up Trip's leg. It didn't seem to settle down and stop it's fearful gibbering until Trip petted it a few times.

Trip smiled down at his new little friend while he kept petting it, but the smile faded as he thought about the first time they had seen the little guy. An image of Jean crouched in front of the bushes with Sextus tentatively resting his paws on the side of her hand popped into his head, and he swallowed hard.

"Think she'll be okay?"

The captain closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He'd managed to push that question to the back of his mind while he was doing the pre-flight checks, and a part of him hated Trip form reminding him of why only half of the away team was currently in the shuttle.

"I hope so, Trip. I really hope so."

Ever since they had launched, Archer had secretly prided himself on the fact that they'd had so few serious injuries and no fatalities on their missions. The few injuries which they had suffered on missions had mainly been confined to himself and the senior staff, with the exception of Novakovitch on their first mission after delivering Klaang, and one of Reed's people at P'Jem. He cared about every member of his crew and he didn't want any of them to be hurt, so it wasn't a question of wanting to maintain a zero percent casualty rate. Also, he liked Jean. He always had, even back when Trip's attempts to flirt with her had been a weekly fixture of their nights out together. Watching her consistently make a fool out of Trip had always been fun, and once he had asked her to join his crew as Deputy Medical Officer, his respect for her had steadily increased, especially after Terra Nova when she was looking after Reed and had managed to get the three of them to share a meal in his reclusive Tactical Officer's quarters.

Archer really didn't understand how she had gotten so close to Reed, considering how guarded the man was, but he was glad that the two of them were friends.

If Jean didn't pull through, he wasn't looking forward to calling her parents and notifying them. When he was asking her to join his crew, she had asked him if he'd ever had to do a notification. He'd said 'no', and she told him how difficult and unpleasant it is to notify family of a loved one's death. She'd given him some advice about the best way to do it, namely, that there _is_ no best way to do it, aside from being polite and sympathetic, and honestly answering any questions which the family might ask. Archer wasn't sure how he'd react to the cruel irony if he had to employ her advice in notifying her family of _her_ death… He shook himself, trying to concentrate on piloting the shuttle.

Suddenly the pod jolted sharply and Archer turned to check the guidance console. "Looks like our friends don't want us to leave just yet. Hold on back there, this could get a little rough."

A few alien vessels were in pursuit and firing particle cannons at the pod, causing it to shake and bounce the occupants. Another shot caused one of the guidance panels to throw up a shower of sparks, and Archer grimaced in pain as his arm was engulfed by it.

"We're almost out of the atmosphere, but the port thruster is gone."

Trip nodded, opening a channel to Enterprise. "Tucker to _Enterprise_."

T'Pol's voice echoed in the pod. "_Go ahead, Commander._"

Trip held onto the panel in front of him, trying to keep himself from being thrown to the deck. "We're takin' fire an we're having trouble shakin' our newfound friends. Can ya do somethin' about it?"

"_Standby_"

They heard a few impacts, and then sensors showed that the ships following them were breaking off their pursuit. Both men relaxed in their seats..

"_I believe that your pursuers no longer pose a threat._"

Archer adjusted some setting on the console, trying to see how able the shuttle was. It seemed capable of getting them back to the ship without needing to be towed by either of the grappler cables. "Thanks, T'Pol. Our engines took a hit, so it's going to take us a bit longer than usual to reach you. Have the shuttle bay ready for us."

"_Understood. Will you require any more assistance, Captain?_"

A soft chirrup caught the captain's attention, and he turned to see that Sextus was leaning forward on Trip's lap, resting it's two tiny forepaws on the edge of the commander's console. It appeared to be studying one of the display screens with great interest. Archer smiled at it. "Negative. Archer out."

Several minutes later they had docked and disembarked from the pod. Sextus was riding Trip's shoulder again, and the creature had curled it's tail around the engineer's neck. The tail was only long enough to go half way around Trip's neck, and the creature seemed to be holding onto him that way to improve it's balance.

A medical corpsman met them in the corridor outside launch bay one and went with them to Decon, glancing at Sextus every so often along the way.

Once the corpsman cleared them to be released from Decon, both officers headed over to Sickbay to see how Jean was doing. The Sickbay doors slid open, allowing Archer and Trip to come in. The first thing they saw was Reed pacing back and forth in front of a drawn privacy curtain. Every so often he would stop, gingerly putting a hand on his side, only to resume pacing a few moments later.

When he heard the doors open, Reed turned around and looked towards them. Captain Archer held a crude bandage to a burn on his arm, trying to keep the injured area covered. It occurred to Reed that if Jean hadn't been injured, she'd have quickly seen to the captain's wound and bandaged it neatly, but with her having been seriously hurt and Reed looking after her, Trip must have been forced to play medic, rummaging through the med kit and hastily taking care of Archer's arm.

"Report, Lieutenant." Archer's voice was firm, with a tinge of worry.

Reed reflexively came to attention, paling considerably when the motion jostled his ribs, and when he spoke his voice was strained. "Phlox and a corpsman met us at the Transporter platform. She was going into shock. The corpsman and I put her on a gurney and Phlox set her up with an IV. We brought her down to Sickbay, but I was redirected to Decon, just to make sure I hadn't been exposed to any dangerous pathogens."

He had only reluctantly cooperated, and that was only because he didn't want to be carrying anything which might endanger someone else on the crew.

"When I scanned clean, Crewman Cutler released me from Decon and brought me back to Sicbay. Phlox had begun operating on Jean and I haven't been given any details on her condition since then. Cutler gave me a brief physical when we got back. Once she was done she gave me a hypo and wrapped my ribs before ducking in to assist Phlox." He glanced at the chronometer on Phlox's work station. "That was five minutes ago."

Archer nodded slightly, reaching out to put a hand on Reed's shoulder. "At ease, Malcolm." His expression softened and he tried to force a smile at his officer. "And you've just been pacing since then?"

Reed gave a short nod, swaying a tiny bit when the motion upset his balance. However, he quickly recovered himself. "Yes sir. I've been…" he glanced over at the curtains where the operation was going on. Before the other officers had arrived, he had been able to listen to snatches of what Phlox was saying and to overhear the sounds from the monitoring devices. It wasn't nearly as good as really knowing what was going on, but at least he knew that nothing had gone horribly wrong with the operation.

"Malcolm?" The captain prompted him, tightening his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder.

Reed started a little, turning back guiltily to look at Archer. "Sorry sir. I've been trying to listen to the monitors. I expect that if something…" He grimaced, either not willing or not able to verbalize what that 'something' might be. "If something happened, there would be a good amount of bells and whistles, but so far I haven't heard anything like that."

Archer smiled tightly and released the lieutenant's shoulder just as Trip stepped forward. "Malcolm, you were carrying her since we got into the forest. Why don't you take a break, sit down for a while?"

Reed frowned, holding one arm stiffly by his side and shaking his head. His head throbbed at the movement and Sicbay seemed to melt and swirl before his eyes, so he reached out a hand to steady himself on a counter. Once he had regained his equilibrium, he looked up at Trip again, only realizing then that the alien squirrel had been perched on the commander's shoulder ever since he had come into Sicbay. Reed blinked, fervently hoping that he wasn't hallucinating. "I appreciate your concern, sir, but I'm fine."

Archer and Trip exchanged a look. Reed's split lip had swollen to twice its normal size and his ribs were obviously causing him a great deal of pain, so neither Trip or the captain believed his claim for a second. They'd both seen how protective Jean and Reed were of each other, particularly down in the cells and during the fight prior to their escape, and they knew that trying to get him to leave her now would be just this side of impossible.

Just then Cutler came out from behind the curtain and insisted that Captain Archer and Commander Tucker follow her over to the recovery beds. She was almost there when she let out a squeal of delight. "Ohmigosh, what _is _that?"

Trip looked around in confusion, then he saw that she was pointing at his shoulder. "That's Sextus. We found 'im on the planet."

Reed followed them over, glancing back towards the operating area guiltily. "I thought he ran off when Jean was captured." He looked back at where the commander was standing, pursing his lips in disapproval when Cutler reached out to pet the creature.

"Is he friendly?"

Trip nodded, moving the rest of the way to an empty bed. "It's androgenous, Liz, and yeah, Malcolm, it did, but I guess it followed us back to the pod once we were in the woods again."

As soon as Trip climbed onto the bed, the biomonitors chirped to life. Sextus canted it's head to one side and scampered towards the monitors, chirping back at them. Cutler smiled. "I guess he- sorry, _it _must think that it's found a friend. Hey there, little critter." She pet it for a few seconds before turning back to focus on Trip. "Okay, Captain, Commander, I'm just going to give you a quick once over. Phlox will do a more thorough physical on each of you once he's finished seeing to Jean."

The men shared a look. "Any idea when that will be?"

She gave a sad little shrug, moving over to roll the equipment cart towards the beds. "Sorry. Phlox said there was a lot of damage, so he's going to be operating for a while. He told me that as soon as I'm done patching you sirs up, you should all try to get some rest, either here or in your own quarters, or maybe get something to eat."

Trip started to take off his alien tunic so that Cutler could examine him and gave the captain a look. "I wouldn't say no to some food an' a bit of shuteye… after I know that Jean's gonna be okay."

Cutler shook her head emphatically, running a scanner over Trip's chest. "Sir, that won't be for a few hours. I'll page you when she's out of surgery."

Archer crossed his arms, playfully lifting his eyebrows. "You wouldn't be trying to order the commander around, would you, _Crewman_?"

Her eyes went wide as she shook her head. "No sir, I just… I'm relaying what Phlox told me, and he also said that…"

"That what?"

She shifted uncomfortably, concentrating on the scanner readouts for Commander Tucker instead of looking the captain in the eye. "He said that in his Sickbay, he's in charge, and when it comes to medical matters, even the captain has to follow his advice."

Archer scrubbed a hand over his face. It looked like this was going to be a long night.


	12. Loyal To A Fault

12

Sickbay, E Deck, 0718 hours, August 17 2151

Phlox got up from his workstation to check on his patient. As he approached her biobed he was annoyed to see Reed sitting in a nearby chair. Phlox quietly sighed and shook his head. He'd had this exact conversation with the lieutenant several hours before and wasn't looking forward to having it again. However, seeing to the crew's well being was his job, and sometimes that meant squaring off with stubborn officers.

"Lieutenant, do I need to call a security detail down here to escort you to your quarters?"

Reed reluctantly turned away from the ensign's sleeping form to look at Phlox. He'd been trying to make sense of the various screens and displays around the biobed for a while, but he wasn't having much luck. He blinked and tiredly rubbed at his eyes with one hand, shaking his head afterwards to rouse himself. Not being able to help the ensign was bad enough, but it was frustrating that he couldn't even discern her condition surrounded as he was by monitors and gauges.

"If it's all the same to you, Doctor, I'd rather stay here. At least until she wakes up."

Phlox shook his head again. _Very _stubborn officers.

Reed had been in Sickbay since midnight the night before when the away team had brought Jean in. Phlox had focused all of his attention on her and he called Crewman Cutler in to look after the three officers. She was a deputy medic who would help out in Sickbay when there were too many patients for the doctors to handle by themselves. After she'd scanned, cleaned, swabbed and bandaged all three officers they hung around, waiting to hear any news on Jean's condition.

The surgery had gone on until nearly 3am, and at that point Phlox had poked his head out of the curtains surrounding his mini operating room and insisted that the men go back to their own quarters and sleep. After some argument, Trip and the captain had left but Reed stayed on as a kind of sentry.

Now it was four hours later and Reed still hadn't left Sickbay. Aside from a three hour long catnap down in the cells, he hadn't really been to bed since the night before the mission. That was roughly thirty hours ago, and despite his best efforts to seem alert, his fatigue was starting to show.

"Mr. Reed, you need to sleep. Go back to your quarters and get some rest, allow your own injuries to heal. I'll notify you as soon as she regains consciousness."

Reed didn't budge from his chair; he just sat there and slowly shook his head with a thoughtful look on his face. "She asked me to stay with her; I'm not leaving until she's awake."

"Depriving yourself of rest and nourishment will not help the ensign in any way." A logical Vulcan approach didn't seem to be working, nor was his usual Denobulan tack, but Phlox remembered an odd phenomenon he'd seen among humans. They seemed fond of hypothetical situation and since none of his other ideas had worked, Phlox decided that this one was worth a try.

"Mr. Reed, if Jean were awake which one of us do you think she would side with? I'm willing to let you stay in Sickbay, but only if you'll try to get some sleep on one of the biobeds."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Reed's face and he nodded his agreement before resuming his vigil. "Thank you Doctor."

Phlox raised his eyebrows in frustration and inclined his head slightly before shaking his head and walking back to his console. There was just no reasoning with officers sometimes.


	13. Wisdom From A Fool

13

Sickbay, E Deck, 1420 hours, August 17 2151

When Commander Tucker entered Sickbay he headed straight to Jean's bed, which was still surrounded by the hanging curtains, without stopping to greet Phlox or ask for his permission. He anxiously pulled back the hanging curtains which separated her bed from the rest of Sickbay and the first thing he saw in the small make-shift room was Reed dozing in a chair next to Jean's bedside.

Trip took a step forward and called the man's name quietly. "Malcolm?"

No reaction. Twelve hours ago he and the Captain had left Sickbay. Since then each of them had bathed, slept, changed into clean uniforms and eaten, but it was obvious that Reed hadn't done any of those things. Stubble was beginning to show on his normally clean-shaven face, his clothes looked just as they had the night before, except now they were rumpled from being slept in. There was a dark red stain on Reed's shirt from when he'd been carrying Jean and holding her so closely to himself that she'd bled onto his clothing. After so many hours, though, the red had turned brownish and started to give off a faint smell of dried blood.

But the only real difference between Reed's appearance now and the previous night was that now he seemed much more obviously disheveled and upset. Even asleep he looked worried.

Trip stepped outside of the curtains and went over to Phlox. The doctor was reading something but put it down when he noticed the younger man. "I'm sorry, commander, but there's been no change in her condition since last night."

The small hope which had been shoved to the back of his mind sputtered, but that wasn't what he wanted to talk about just then. "How long has Lieutenant Reed been here?"

Thinking about it, Phlox pursed his lips in disapproval. "Since last night. He hasn't left since the away team came in. I've asked him to leave but he refuses. Finally I agreed to let him stay if he got some sleep on a biobed."

"Thanks, doc. I figured as much." Trip shook his head. "Well he's sleepin' pretty soundly now in that chair of his. This'll be interestin'."

He went back through the curtains and approached the sleeping man. Reed really looked like he needed the rest but Trip knew he'd sleep much better in his own bunk, so after a brief moment of hesitation he reached out and lightly shook Reed's arm.

"Malcolm, wake up."

"Uhgn?"

_That's something, anyway_. "C'mon Malcolm. You need to wake up."

A few seconds later Reed was sitting upright in the chair and rubbing his eyes, trying to blink away his nightmare. It was something about having to give a speech at a funeral... He shook his head to clear it and then, almost automatically, he looked over at the biobed. The monitors were all beeping and showing the same displays as they had been earlier. He still couldn't make heads or tails of any of them, but he assumed it meant that her condition hadn't changed. Gradually he realized that someone had woken him up and looked over to see who it was.

He stood up hastily, almost knocking over his chair in the process. "Commander... I... "

Trip waved his hand to put the man at ease. "Phlox told me you've been here since last night. Look, Malcolm, right now there isn't anything any of us can do to help her. All we can do is give her time to heal and do the same for ourselves."

Reed nodded but looked away from his superior. Not out of disrespect, but because he needed to see if Jean's condition had changed in the past minute or so. Some part of him knew that this was utterly ridiculous, but he still couldn't help doing it.

After waiting for Reed to turn back to him Trip softened and shook his head, looking frustrated, sympathetic, and concerned all at once.

"Malcolm, you're not the only one who's worried about her. D'you think this is any easier on me or the Cap'n? Usually when something on the ship gets broken, no matter what it is, you or me can just fix it. But using a hypo spanner or re-aligning somethin' won't help this time. Right now, the best thing we can do is let Phlox do his job, and that means following his advice about going to quarters and sleeping. Or eat somethin' first. Whatever you need to do, but don't go on the bridge or into the Armory 'til you've gotten some sleep. Is that clear?"

"Sir, I..."

"I don't want to make that an order, Malcolm, but I'll do it if I have to." The stern look on Trip's face showed how serious he was, so reluctantly Reed nodded again. He knew the commander was right, but...

Before Reed could voice his one protest Trip put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll take a shift watching her for a few hours and then there'll be someone else to relieve me. I've already got a few volunteers. She won't be alone, and whoever's shift it is when she comes to'll call you right away. But regardless I don't want you to set foot in Sickbay for the next eighteen hours. Understood?"

For the first time in what felt like months, Reed smiled. "Understood, sir, and request permission to have the shift which starts in nineteen hours."

Trip's smile matched Reed's tooth for tooth. "Granted. You have your orders, Lieutenant."

Reed left the curtained room and nodded to Phlox on his way out. "Goodnight, doctor" he managed around a yawn before he left Sickbay, making a bee line for his quarters. Trip settled into Reed's warm but now vacant chair and began his turn at the watch.

* * *

_To everyone who has stuck with this story so far, THANK YOU!_


	14. A Restless Night

A/N: To reward everyone's patience, here is a very long chapter. Please read and review!

* * *

14

Crew Quarters, B Deck, 2240 hours, August 17 2151

When Reed had first gotten back to his quarters at around 0730, he'd kicked off his shoes and fallen into bed without bothering to get undressed. He slept soundly for several hours, catching up on the rest he'd missed while sitting with Jean, but sometime just before midnight his growling stomach woke him up. He lay in his darkened quarters, too hungry to fall back asleep, but not quite awake enough yet to consider leaving the soft warmth of his bed. Just to pass the time, he tried to remember the last time he'd eaten anything.

_I had breakfast the morning of the mission, we snacked a little at that street fair, and I think the guards gave us some scraps when we were waiting in the cells. Have I had anything since?_ He turned, shifting position, and grit his teeth at the sudden, throbbing ache in his side. _Damned ribs!_

Crewman Cutler had said they weren't broken, only bruised, but they still hurt like the dickens when he tried to move. In the hours since he left Sickbay his sore muscles had stiffened up, too, and he had a nagging suspicion that sleeping in a chair hadn't helped matters. Slowly, carefully, he eased himself into a sitting position and shifted over to the edge of his bunk. For a little while he just sat there, gripping the side of his bed frame with both hands to keep himself upright and willing himself to stand up.

After a few minutes he nodded resolutely and got to his feet, holding one arm rigidly next to his sore ribs and blinking copiously to wake himself. He glanced over at the time display on his desk. 2248 hours. His stomach growled again. It wasn't very loud, but the feeling of emptiness that accompanied it was astounding.

'_Is your belly hollow?'_

He smirked, remembering his Novan jailer's question several months before. _Yes, yes it is. But I'll pass on the digger meat this time._

He shuffled into the bathroom. On his way to the toilet, a ghostly, unkempt apparition in the mirror caught his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks, then went over to look more closely. _Dear God!_ The figure staring back at him was pale under its messy, dark brown hair, which stuck out in odd little clumps and at strange angles. There were dark circles under the wide, shocked eyes, and rough stubble covered the lower portion of the face.

Reed shook his head slightly and blinked wide. His double did the same.

_What were you expecting? That he'd lean out of the mirror and hand over a razor?_ He heaved a deep breath, screwing up his face in a wince when his ribs complained. _Right then, get on with it._ He went over to the toilet and lifted the seat. Once he was finished, he flushed and washed his hands, all the time darting furtive glances at the mirror, hoping his reflection had improved. He wasn't surprised when it didn't.

_Right, I'll shower, shave, and change into clean clothes. I can't very well leave my quarters looking like this. Then I'll go to the Mess and grab something to eat._

He started to dry his hands on a towel, then shook his head. _Why bother?_ He undid the lacing at the neck of his shirt and carefully tugged the hem out of his pants before trying to pull the garment off over his head. It was halfway there when his hand accidentally brushed over his sore ribs, setting off fresh waves of pain.

_Damned, stupid, bloody planet!_

He stubbornly grit his teeth and yanked the shirt the rest of the way off, briefly entertaining the notion of flushing the offending garment down the toilet. He certainly never wanted to see it ever again. It reminded him too much of the mission, the blood stain especially. _No, I shouldn't flush it. It might clog a pipe somewhere_. Ultimately, he settled for balling the shirt up so that the stain was hidden and tossed it next to the sink before moving on to his belt.

He didn't have any trouble divesting himself of his belt or the pants, which he simply let fall onto the deck around his feet and then stepped out of. The belt was nondescript enough and it wasn't stained at all; he'd keep it in his quarters until he could return it to the quartermaster along with the pants. He left the pants where they fell, then gently kicked them towards the main part of his quarters. Leaving them on the floor would drive him batty, but he was too sore to consider trying to pick them up. Getting out of his skivvies was no problem either; he kicked them into a pile with his pants and resolved to put them all down the cleaning chute when he could undress without wanting to curse.

Reed had kicked off his shoes and one foot was in the shower when he glanced down at the supporting bandage Crewman Cutler had wrapped around his middle. _Damn. Can't get this wet. I'll have to take the bloody thing off._ He stood there, frowning in displeasure until an idea hit him. He reached for the comm panel by the shower stall.

"Lieutenant Reed to Crewman Cutler."

A soft chirp answered his hail, followed by "Cutler here. Go ahead, sir. What can I do for you?"

Reed cleared his throat awkwardly. It had only just occurred to him that he was speaking to a female subordinate and he was totally naked. He swallowed nervously, then pushed aside his embarrassment and went ahead with his query. "Crewman, I was wondering. Those bandages you used on my ribs, do I need to remove them if I want to take a shower?"

"No sir, they're waterproof. If you do decide to take them off, I'll want you to come down to Sickbay so I can re-wrap them properly. Is that helpful, sir?"

Reed nodded happily, allowing himself a faint smile. "Yes, Crewman. Thank you. Reed out."

He stepped the rest of the way into the shower and turned the water on, hot. For a few moments he just stood there, letting the water softly pound on his sore muscles. He let his head fall forward and breathed deeply, giving the water a chance to relax the muscles in his neck and shoulders. He was almost enjoying himself when his stomach rumbled.

_Alright already. I get the idea_.

He shook his head slightly to snap himself out of his brief reverie, and reached for a washcloth. He worked some soap into a lather and set about washing his arms, chest and legs, leaving his back for last. When he was getting undressed he'd noticed that it hurt to lift his left arm past a certain point, so he knew that he'd need to limit his range of motion to what didn't hurt, which, unfortunately, meant that washing his back would be rather tricky.

As he continued using the soap, he noticed how much dirt and grime had already been rinsed off and was swirling around his feet.

_Lovely. And I've been this dirty ever since we came back on board._

He snorted in mild disgust. Since he was still looking down, he started washing the area below the support bandage. It was wrapped too tightly for him to properly clean the skin underneath it, and he didn't like the idea of leaving part of himself filthy until the bandage came off, but he could still wash around it and he didn't really want to remove it. Besides, he was in less pain with the bandage in place than without it, and the idea of going down to Sickbay to have it re-wrapped didn't appeal to him in the least. Not to mention the fact that he'd been banned from Sickbay until the next day...

_But does that include going there for treatment? Maybe I could ask Cutler to – no. Jean's the only one who makes house calls. And I'm not sure it would be appropriate for the crewman to be in my quarters, especially when I'm perfectly capable of walking there on my own._

While he'd been debating the matter with himself, he'd finished washing every bit of his body except for his upper back. He slowly tried rolling his left shoulder. No pain. He smiled and experimented with washing the back of his neck using his left hand. There was a slight twinge when he first raised the arm, and he couldn't quite reach the right side of his neck, but otherwise the pain was minimal. He sighed and switched the washcloth to his right hand to finish the job. It was a bit of a struggle to wash his upper back with just one hand, but he managed.

Sometime later Reed noticed that he'd been drifting off, so before he started to wash his hair he made the water a bit cooler, just to wake himself up. His sore muscles lodged a feeble protest, which he firmly ignored. It was important that he be fully awake now, before he tried to shave off his two days worth of stubble. He'd attend to his various aches later, after he'd finished cleaning himself up and eaten a meal in the mess.

Once he'd rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower stall, grabbing a towel on the way. He dried his arms and then cautiously patted his chest and belly dry, somehow completing that task without provoking his aching ribs. He shook his head very slightly, surprised that he'd managed to do that, and felt a few drops a water land on his shoulders.

_Right, that's what's next_.

He scrubbed the towel over his head, roughly drying his hair. He soon realized that he was using the force which he'd restrained in drying his midsection, and that his general frustration and disgust at recent events was powering his actions. _I'd better make sure to not pull any hair out by mistake_. He abruptly stopped, his inherent caution coming to the fore again.

_What is wrong with you?_

He shook his head vigorously and suddenly felt a sharp, throbbing pain near the back of his skull which made his vision swim. It was where he'd been hit with something big and heavy when he and Trip were 'questioned'. Reed absently let the towel drop lower in his hands. _A dear friend of mine was stabbed yesterday, she's still at death's door, and I can't even be there with her. That's what's bloody well wrong with me! And to top it all off, that vicious ass Rostin got away clean, last I heard._

Reed twisted the towel angrily, bunching it in his fists as his traitorous mind replayed the highlights of the away team's stay on Chalderon. He watched, helpless, as Jean was carried off to god knows where... as he and Trip were interrogated. He reached up to touch the back of his head, gingerly feeling the sore spot. He didn't need to touch his ribs to remind himself of where one of the guards had repeatedly punched and kicked him until Trip kicked at the guard, drawing the sadist's attention to himself and granting the lieutenant a respite. Admittedly, it wasn't as brutal as it might have been – the guards hadn't used anything more than fists, feet, and the butts of their guns – but it was still an experience he wasn't eager to repeat. Nevertheless, here he was in his bathroom barely 24 hours later, living it again.

Blood... pain... fear... anger... and, finally, anguished worry. He blinked rapidly, trying to rid himself of the images floating through his mind. _Bloody hell, what I wouldn't give to be unconscious right now... No, then I'd be having nightmares again. Big improvement, that._

He absently wrapped the towel around his waist and hissed in pain. He'd tucked in the towel right on top of one of his sore ribs. _Brilliant job, Malcolm. I need to sleep, get my head together properly._ _Make sure I don't do that again. _He adjusted the towel slightly so it wouldn't hurt, stepped over to the mirror and leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of the sink.

_But I'm still worried. That part hasn't passed yet... and it won't, either. Not until I can talk to her. Not until she's awake. Not until I can see her smile._

He was still banned from Sickbay for another seven hours, so he couldn't see her until then, and he knew that waiting so long to see her again would be torture. Just sitting by her bed had helped to calm his worry. Watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing had been reassuring beyond words, and just knowing that she was so close and that if anything should happen he could call Phlox over to fix it, had helped him keep a solid grip on himself. Now that he'd lost that tiny bit of reassurance, he'd simply have to find another way to keep himself in check.

_The best way to pass the time is to just sleep_, he reasoned. _But first I need to eat something in the mess, and to do that, I'll have to be properly presentable._

He took out his razor without checking his reflection. He'd have to use the mirror to shave properly, but he still didn't like to see himself so unkempt. After a brief hesitation he switched on the shaver and lifted it to the corner of his jaw. It only took him a few minutes to shave, during which time he avoided looking at the main part of his reflection, and instead remained focused on just the lower portion of his face, being particularly careful around his split lip. He switched off the razor and carefully cleaned it of shavings before putting it away again.

Reed reached for a comb, put it down next to the sink, and then reluctantly looked at his reflection.

He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, making his nose bend slightly to one side as he ruefully contemplated his appearance. The hair just needed to be combed into place, and the stubble was gone. He was still pale from lack of sleep and a surfeit of worry, and even though the warm shower had brought some color back to his face, he knew that it probably wouldn't stay there very long. The circles under his eyes weren't less prominent than they'd been before, but they'd fade with time. And rest. If he could manage to get any...

He picked up the comb again and quickly ran it through his hair, trying desperately not to think of anything at all, because he knew that no matter what thoughts might pop into his head, something would remind him of her.

_What am I doing? I'm acting like she's already dead!_ His eyes squeezed shut and he slowly shook his head. _No. No. No! She is alive, damn it, and she's not going to die! Stop being an idiot. Stop acting like a child._ He angrily wiped the back of his hand across his cheeks, trying to steady the breathing which he just realized had become ragged. _I'll be going out where there are people, soon. I can't be seen like this_.

After his hair was neatly brushed back, Reed forced himself to put down the comb. He was surprised to find thin red stripes criss-crossing his palm and the inside of his fingers. _I must've been gripping the comb too hard. It's a wonder it didn't snap._ He glanced at the mirror again and scowled at how red his eyes were.

_That won't do._ He grabbed a washcloth, ran it under cold water and, after squeezing most of the damp out of it, pressed it to his face.

He held the cloth to his eyes, letting the coolness soothe his tired eyelids. Reed removed the cloth for just a moment, opened his eyes and moved to sit on the low bench by his shower. He sat, leaning back against the wall and trying not to think about the mission. For the first time that evening, he succeeded. He kept his eyes shut, relaxing into the paneled wall and holding the cool cloth in place. After a little while, Reed started to nod off. He let his hand fall to his lap, glad that the cloth stayed in place over his eyes. It seemed to stick to his skin on its own. He must have been dozing for twenty minutes when a very slight chill woke him. The skin on his thighs was raised in gooseflesh and his towel had fallen open.

Reed sat up, pulling the terrycloth around him again as his stomach rumbled even more insistently. _Yes, yes. I'll see to that in just a minute._

He stood, being careful to hold the towel in place as he walked towards the bathroom door.

_Right, dressed, mess hall, then back to bed._ He winced when he moved back into the main part of his quarters; at some point, his body had decided to stop cooperating with him altogether and now even walking was painful. _Now, what to wear?_

Normally he would have thrown his uniform on, no question, but now his soreness gave him pause._ Maybe a quick trip to Sickbay after the mess, just to get something for the pain._ He shook his head, only partially amazed that he felt so lousy, and almost lost his balance as the room did a strange turn. He'd completely forgotten about having a mild concussion.

_I'm a right mess, no mistake_. He stopped himself from shaking his head again and took out some underwear. He'd decide whether or not to try putting on his uniform based on how much trouble he had with the underwear. If getting the bottoms on proved too hard he'd wear something else, since getting into the one-piece uniform required a good deal of bending and, given how much his side was hurting, he might find it easier to just put on normal pants and a shirt.

Getting into clean underwear was easy enough, in theory, at least. In practice, it turned out that bending to put on underwear was the worst part. He tried holding his breath and closing his eyes, hoping that would prevent, or at least lessen, the pain in his ribs.

It didn't. A bright explosion of pain crashed behind his eyelids, surprising him and making him take in a quick breath with the shock of it. That didn't help much with the pain, either. Taking in the breath only hurt his side even more. He still managed to get his skivvies on, though, despite the pain, and then spent the next minute or so trying to make himself breathe steadily.

_So the uniform's out, then_.

He remembered that Jean had been cajoling him for a while to venture out of his quarters wearing something other than his uniform. Apparently, though, wearing something besides his uniform when he went to the ship's gym didn't count towards her idea of variety.

"_Can't you wear something else, just once? Add a little variation to the color scheme of... whatever?"_

_Now she'll just have to hear about it, _he thought ruefully. He grabbed a beige t-shirt and sweatpants out of his locker and slammed it shut. He pushed the door so hard that it hit the frame and bounced back again, not actually closing properly.

_Temper temper, Malcolm. Can't go about breaking things_. Reed carefully shut his locker, trying to make himself breathe steadily again.

The next part would be fairly tricky, since he was having trouble lifting his left arm, but he grit his teeth and managed to pull on the undershirt and t-shirt without too much pain. He still couldn't raise his left arm without pain, but, like with the shower, he managed. The sweats were another matter. He tried to put them on without bending, quickly realized it was impossible, and muttered some curses to himself before working up the nerve to put himself through that ordeal again.

He had to bend over to get them on, which unfortunately meant that a dizzying pain exploded in his side before he had pulled them on completely. The pain was so bad that it made his vision go blurry. Luckily, though, he was near enough to his bed to sit down until the feeling faded to a dull ache. _It shouldn't be this hard_.

He tried to shake off his self-pity and, closing his eyes tightly, got the pants on properly with only a little bit more agony. He'd had to lie down again to do it — bending while he sat on the bed only meant more pain — and afterwards he stayed lying down for quite some time, trying to will the pain away. After Reed had his pants on, he allowed himself a minute to get his breath back, and then he got some water and surprised himself by downing three whole glasses. When he finally felt recovered, he headed down to the mess, hoping that if he ate something – as his stomach kept insisting that he should – maybe he could get back to sleep.


	15. In Limbo

15

Reed fully intended to go to the mess, so he was quite surprised, five minutes later, to find himself standing in front of the Sickbay doors. He shook his head, briefly wondering why his feet had decided to take him there, but the movement made his stomach lurch and his vision swim.

_Don't do that _a small voice said. _You still have a concussion, remember?_

Trying to breathe and walk at the same time had been such a challenge, and, combined with how hungry he was, the effort had made him so lightheaded that he'd actually forgotten all about his head injury. Since he was losing his fight against the dizziness, he put out a hand to steady himself on the wall, at the same time closing his eyes in an attempt to lessen the pounding in his skull. Instead of the wall, though, his hand landed on the door trigger. His palm was sweaty and it slid over the panel, leaving him leaning against nothing. His eyes were still closed as he lost his balance, and as the doors slid apart, he stumbled through them into Sickbay. His breath quickened as he felt himself losing his feet. He knew that he needed to open his eyes if he wanted to catch himself, but since he was falling so quickly, he instinctively kept them shut, bracing himself for a rough impact with the deck.

The sound of his own breathing was loud in his ears for the next few seconds, but there was no jarring thud, no explosion of agony as his cracked and bruised ribs received further punishment. Instead, there was an odd sort of pressure on his arms. Not painful, exactly, but firm, and he opened his eyes in confusion. Crewman Cutler was standing on his left and a corpsman was on his right, and both of them had tight hold of his upper arms.

_They caught me._ He almost gave in to an insane urge to giggle. After all, wasn't he always trying to get out of Sickbay? He was a regular fugitive patient, and now he'd turned himself in. Reed bit the inside of his cheek, quelling the laughter. _If Phlox thinks I've cracked, he'll __**never**__ let me leave. _

"Sir, are you okay?" Cutler sounded concerned, and that sobered him up.

"Just... lost my balance, crewman." He knew it was an obvious thing to say. After all, they'd had to stop him from falling, so they must have realized that, but he couldn't think of anything else to tell her.

Cutler nodded sympathetically, then looked at the corpsman and jerked her head to the nearest bio-bed. They started leading him over to it. "Alright, sir. Is there a specific reason you came down here? Did you need something?"

Reed furrowed his brow, his mouth briefly falling into a pout. "I... I don't know. I meant to go to the mess, but then I was here..." He shook his head, trying to clear some of the fog from his brain, and winced, blanching, as the room spun. Hungry as he was, Reed was glad that he hadn't eaten anything yet, since he was sure that had there been food in his belly, it would have wound up on Cutler's shoes.

"Don't worry, sir." Cutler squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, in a gesture so reminiscent of Jean that his mind swam, missing her comforting presence. For just a moment, he wanted Jean to tell him that it would all be okay, that it was all some horrible misunderstanding and he was silly for fretting so much. If she told him all that, he almost thought he could believe it. Instead, he heard Liz speaking to him again.

"We'll figure it out."

He swallowed hard, gritting his teeth and wanting to believe her. He fought down a sudden wave of guilt for wanting Jean to comfort him. His eyes flicked over to Jean's bed, staring at the curtains as though he could see right past them. He pictured her lying there on the bio-bed, hooked up to IVs and monitors, looking pale and small with her disheveled hair spilling across the pillow, the rise and fall of her breathing just barely visible under the layers of blankets.

_She's the one who needs looking after, you git! Don't be so selfish._

Liz followed his gaze, watching him sympathetically and giving his shoulder another squeeze. She was starting to see what Jean had mentioned a few months before, after the mission to Terra Nova, while Reed had been a patient. When Reed let his guard down and stopped being so darn stiff, he really was quite endearing.

"Mister Reed!" An irate Phlox emerged from the curtains surrounding Jean's bed and quickly bustled over to the lieutenant. He had recognized Reed's voice while he was checking on the ensign's status, and he was furious to find that the stubborn man had returned. "I thought that Commander Tucker was quite clear with you. You were not supposed to return here for another nine hours..."

"Doctor," Cutler interrupted softly, "look at him."

Reed had flinched at the doctor's raised voice, and now he hung his head dejectedly, chin almost touching his chest. His hands trembled, he was pale, sweaty, and barely on his feet. The walk from his quarters had taken a lot out of him, and he wanted to explain to Phlox that he wasn't trying to cause trouble, but he honestly wasn't sure why he _had _come to Sickbay.

_Because you're a mess, buddy._ The voice sounded suspiciously like Jean, and he swallowed, remembering his worry for her.

"I wasn't coming to see her..." He hated the tremble in his voice and he swallowed again, harder, hoping to get rid of it. "I –"

Phlox stopped him with a gentle pat on the arm. "It's okay, lieutenant. I should not have spoken to you like that, and I apologize. Now," he nodded to the corpsman, who redirected Reed to the middle of Sickbay. "I also apologize for not giving you a thorough examination earlier, but as I was preoccupied with the ensign..."

Reed groaned. Trust Phlox to go from furious to solicitous in five seconds flat. The last thing he wanted was to be poked and prodded, especially by a man who had just yelled at him. He briefly considered trying to get away, but the medic and Cutler were still holding onto his arms, so he was left trying to talk his way out of it. "I understand, doctor, but there's no need. I'm really f-" Phlox stared at him disbelievingly, and Reed's voice died in his throat.

"Lieutenant, you most certainly are not 'fine'. You are obviously in a great deal of pain, a fact which I failed to remedy last night. However, I mean to correct that oversight now. While Captain Archer and Commander Tucker were sitting with Jean, I conducted full physicals for both of them and treated their injuries, to be sure that Crewman Cutler hadn't missed anything when she tended to the three of you. It was remiss of me not to do the same during your vigil at the ensign's bedside. Now, please, allow me to do my job."

"_Let me do my job." _

That was the phrase which Jean always used as a last resort, when she was trying to look after him and he wasn't cooperating. It was her secret weapon, and, upon hearing it, he always caved. Reed didn't know if she'd told Phlox that those five words were his Achilles heel, but he had a feeling that she wouldn't have done that. It would be a betrayal of confidence, and there was nothing she took more seriously. Now, the words worked because they reminded him so much of her.

Phlox gestured to the central monitor and pressed a button on the panel, causing the imaging chamber to open and the bio-bed to slide out. Cutler and the medic led a very reluctant Reed over to it. He didn't fight them, exactly. He didn't have the energy to fight, but he dragged his feet a little.

Cutler helped Reed onto the bio-bed and gently guided him to lie down, making sure he was comfortable. The bed slid back into the imaging chamber and he closed his eyes.

He must have dozed off without realizing it while he was inside the chamber, because it seemed like less than a minute later that the bed trundled out again and Cutler was gently helping him to sit up. Reed reflexively put a hand to his side, tentatively holding it over the part of his ribs which tended to protest that sort of movement. He blinked copiously once he was upright, nodding his thanks at Cutler before she moved away.

"There, now, Lieutenant. That wasn't so bad, hmm?" Phlox glanced down from frowning at the monitors to give Reed a quick smile. "You seem to have a mild concussion, but there is no actual damage to your brain or sub-cranial bleeding. I'll give you a dose of analgesic now to help with the pain for the rest of the evening; an anesthetic would only serve to disorient you further, and we don't want that."

Reed blinked, attempting to understand what the doctor was saying, but only some of it filtered through. He felt something cold press against his neck and heard a hiss of compressed air. A few seconds later the pounding in his head faded slightly, and he surmised that Phlox had given him some sort of medication. He tried to focus on the doctor, but his eyes seemed reluctant to cooperate. It seemed that the doctor had continued talking while Reed was trying to sort things out, and as a result, Reed had missed a good deal of his diagnosis.

"… and during the scan I noticed that your stomach is empty, so a trip to the mess hall for some food would be a good idea. After you have eaten, I suggest that you return to your quarters and try to sleep."

Phlox narrowed his electric blue eyes at Reed, staring intently at the man when he didn't respond. "Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?"

Reed nodded, wincing when his head throbbed slightly at the movement. However, when he put a hand to his side, he found that the ache in his ribs had disappeared. He frowned, puzzled by the inconsistency. "My head still hurts, doctor. What did you give me?"

Phlox gave him an enduring smile, holding up the hypo he had used. "As I said, it was a dose of analgesic. If you need something stronger, Cutler will give you a hypospray to use once you return to your quarters, but in your current condition, I strongly suggest that you not use anything more potent than a sleep-aide–"

"I doubt that I'll have any trouble sleeping…" Reed muttered, interrupting the Denobulan. He let out a quiet sigh and then glanced at the doctor guiltily. "I'm sorry, Phlox."

He started to edge himself off of the bio-bed, and Cutler came forward to help him. He smiled his thanks at her when she kept hold of his arm for a few seconds, making sure that he stopped swaying before she let go. When he turned back to Phlox, the doctor frowned at him, clearly contemplating whether or not the man was fit to return to his own quarters.

"Am I free to go?"

It was funny, actually. After all his reluctance to leave Jean's side in Sickbay the previous day, now all he wanted to do was crawl into his own bunk and sleep. Reed felt a little guilty about not fighting to stay with her this time, but he was just so tired…

A slight rustling of the curtains which hung around Jean's bed drew Phlox's attention for a moment, but he quickly redirected his attention to Reed. "Yes, Lieutenant. If you like, I can send Jenkins by in about twelve hours to check on you."

"No, no please…"

Reed jerked at the sound of Jean's voice, his eyes going wide. "Is she awake?" The sharp movement made his head swim and Reed leaned a hand on the examination bed, waiting for his equilibrium to return. He blinked to clear his vision and hoped that his sudden dizziness wouldn't distract Phlox from checking on Jean. He needed to know what was going on without any delay.

Apparently, Phlox didn't notice that Reed was having difficulties. The doctor went to a panel and pressed a few buttons so the readings from her biomonitors showed up on the central screen. He frowned. "According to her brainwave activity, she is deeply asleep. I'm not sure what –"

The curtains around her bed parted, revealing Hoshi's worried face. She gripped one edge of the curtain in a white-knuckled hand. "Doctor, I think she's having a nightmare."

Phlox bustled over, Reed following close behind. Hoshi stood aside, still holding onto the curtain edge, and the doctor strode past her through the opening in the curtains. They could clearly see that Jean was distressed. She had kicked the blankets off and was breathing rapidly, turning her head from one side to the other and muttering every so often.

"No, I can't do it… I _can't!_ Please, don't make me. Please…"

The whole time they were on the planet, Reed hadn't heard her beg for mercy. She cried a good deal after the guards had attacked her down in the cells, but she'd barely made a sound during the attack itself. Even after she'd been hurt, there hadn't been any begging. Some moans and whimpers of pain, but nothing like this, and it unnerved him to see her so distraught.

Phlox took a closer look at the monitors, frowning. "I believe Ensign Sato's assessment was correct. Ensign Olenick entered REM sleep some time ago."

Hoshi glanced at Reed. It was the first time she had seen him since the mission, and she was amazed by how tired and on edge he looked. "She was okay until a little while ago, sir, and then she started muttering and talking."

Reed acknowledged her words with a slight nod, but never took his eyes off of Jean. "Doctor, should we wake her?"

"I wouldn't advise that." The doctor shook his head, activating a scanner and holding it over her right side. "She would most likely awaken in a lively manner, and that would undoubtedly cause damage to her healing tissues. It might even rip open her sutures, and sedating her any further would dangerously depress her lung function–"

"I can't do it, I just can't… Please, no…" She sounded on the verge of tears.

"Then what?" Reed clenched his jaw. He couldn't bear to watch her writhing in fear for much longer. It was just too painful. "What can we do for her?"

Phlox shrugged one of his odd shrugs, moving his head slightly at the same time. "I'm not certain. I'm not accustomed to treating trauma patients who have such active REM cycles…"

Another whimper from Jean snapped Reed into action. He was by the head of her bed in a few quick strides, and he took her hand in his before even realizing that was what he was doing.

"It's okay, Jean. It's going to be okay…" he quietly soothed her, smiling a tiny bit when her hand tightened around his fingers.

She bit her lip, a worried crease forming on her forehead even as she held onto his hand. "No… no… it isn't."

Reed didn't know if she was actually responding to what he'd said. He seriously doubted that she was. After all, it didn't seem to make sense that someone as deeply asleep as she was could carry on a conversation, and what she just said wasn't much different from the rest of her sleep talking. Of course, she had grabbed hold of his hand, but that might have just been a reflex… Reed started running his thumb over the back of her hand, feeling her soft skin. He closed his eyes for a second, moving his thumb back and forth and hoping that, somehow, the gesture would be enough to chase her nightmare away. When he opened his eyes again and saw that she was just as distraught as before, he let out a short gusting sigh. He might as well be a teddy bear, or part of the covers, for all the good he was doing.

"Why don't you sit down, sir?" He turned at the sound of Hoshi's voice to see her nervously hovering by the chair she had vacated. "Standing bent over like that can't be comfortable."

Hoshi moved the chair over towards him, just enough so that he could sit down without letting go of Jean's hand. Reed mustered a smile for her. "Thanks, Hoshi."

The furrow on Jean's brow deepened. She was starting to look confused, but her eyes still hadn't opened. "Wh… where? No, she wasn't here… I know she wasn't…"

Reed frowned, matching Jean's confusion. "Who wasn't where?" She didn't respond to that, so he went back to trying to reassure her. "You're okay, Jean. You're safe."

She shook her head, surprising him with a coherent reply. "No, no. I'm not. They want me to… I'm supposed to shoot him…"

Reed let out a quiet breath. Relief that she was listening to him seemed to draw aside most of his anxiety, but it was quickly replaced by confusion when he realized what was going on; she was reliving part of their mission and he had no idea of how to calm her down. He hated to do it, but he kept talking to her without a plan in mind, just hoping that he would be able to help her.

"I know, Jean. I know they want you to shoot the captain," Reed stopped when a quiet gasp from Hoshi broke his concentration_. Apparently she doesn't know everything that happened down there…_

He turned to see that the linguist had covered her open mouth with a demure hand and was looking from Jean to Reed in utter horror. Phlox put a restraining hand on the young woman's arm and then went back to watching the biomonitors.

"Please continue, Mr. Reed." The doctor spoke softly, not looking away from the readouts. "Her pulse and blood pressure are becoming more stable."

Reed felt a tiny disbelieving smile start to form on his lips as he turned to face the bed again. _I'm actually helping… _He gave her hand a squeeze, noticing that his palm was sweaty but not wanting to let go of her hand to wipe away the moisture. "But its OK – "

"Okay? How can it be okay?" Her voice was suddenly strong, filled with anger instead of fear. "What if I screw up? What if I put it on the wrong setting…" the strength left as soon as it had come, leaving her sounding small and afraid.

Reed shook his head, recalling with a tinge of pride how well she had dealt with "killing" the captain. She had been very convincing before and after shooting him, to the point where both he and Trip had believed her performance

Now that he knew how anxious about it she had been at the time, her performance impressed him even more. She had never let on how scared or nervous she was, she just did what she had to do. He smiled to himself. _Matah Hari indeed. We were lucky to have her with us._

"You won't, Jean. You'll make us proud. I know it – "

She cut him off, " – and if I won't do it, I dunno what they'll do to me…"

He had a quick flash of her being hit and then fondled by the guards down in the lower corridor, and felt his eyes tearing up. _Telling her about that certainly won't help right now. _Reed wiped at his eyes with his free hand and fought down the roil of emotions which was threatening to overcome him.

Hoshi exchanged a look with Cutler, neither woman knowing what to make of what they were seeing.

Hoshi's eyebrows flew upwards, silently mouthing: _This is Lieutenant Reed, right?_

Cutler nodded confirmation, fighting a smirk. _Yeah, it is._

Hoshi gestured emphatically at Reed, making swiping motions beneath both eyes. _But… he's almost crying._

Cutler shrugged, thinking back to how upset, and, unlikely as it seemed, vulnerable the man had been when he stumbled into Sickbay not too long before. _I don't know what to tell you._

Reed was unaware of the silent dialogue going on behind him. He tried to sit forward in his chair, but his ribs screamed in protest, so he settled for putting his other hand on top of their joined hands.

"You can do this, Jean," he tightened his grip slightly. "Trust me, you're going to do just fine…"

He sat, holding her hand sandwiched between both of his and waiting for her to say something.

"Lieutenant," Phlox's hushed voice came from just next to Reed's shoulder. "The ensign appears to have fallen into a deeper sleep. I appreciate your assistance in calming her, but –"

Reed nodded numbly, just watching her sleep for a few moments. God, it was good to know that she was okay. Just being able to sit by her bed made him feel better. He looked down at their joined hands, allowing himself to smile warmly at his slumbering friend before turning a wry smile on the doctor. "But I need to get out of Sickbay. Yes, Doctor."

Phlox grinned. "Excellent. And be sure to have something to eat. Something substantial."

Hoshi turned to Liz, winking at the other woman in such a way that she knew Reed wouldn't see it. "You know, I was planning on having a late dinner in the Mess after my shift here ends."

Cutler nudged Hoshi's elbow, winking back. "Your shift is almost over. I can sit with her until Travis gets here. Why don't you go with Lieutenant Reed, make sure he follows Phlox's orders."

While they were talking, Reed carefully got up from the chair. He was cogent enough to be amused by their transparent attempt to arrange an escort for him, but a low growl from his stomach convinced him not to thwart their efforts. After all, he was starving. His side ached a bit when he walked, and the floor spun as his head throbbed. Reed stopped just outside the curtains, blinking away the dizziness.

Phlox mistook his pause for misgivings about leaving Sickbay. "Not to worry, Lieutenant. She is stable now and I will monitor her as she continues to recover."

Cutler looked over at Phlox. He was a great doctor, but at times his lack of familiarity with Human behavior negatively impacted his bedside manner. What Reed needed to hear just then wasn't the science of what was going on. She put a hand on Reed's arm, giving him a sympathetic smile. "We'll watch over her, sir. One of us will call you when she wakes up."

Reed relaxed slightly, giving Cutler a tight smile of thanks.

"One second, sir…"

Cutler hurried over to one of the equipment drawers and retrieved a hypospray. She walked back to Reed with the hypo in one hand and a vial of pinkish medicine in the other. She loaded the vial, set the dosage and handed it to him. "Just in case you need it, sir, here's something to help you sleep." She smiled up at him, knowing that he would appreciate this next part. "It's made to Jean's recipe."

Reed nodded, looking back at Jean's bed. "Thank you, Crewman." He heard Hoshi's footsteps moving towards the double doors and hurried to catch up with her.

When they got to the mess, Travis was midway through his dinner and he invited them to sit with him. Reed was pleasantly surprised to find that the entrée chef had prepared that night was baked ham with pineapple. No one knew that it was the closest thing Reed had to a favorite meal, so Hoshi was a little taken aback by how enthusiastically he dug into his first helping of it. Of course, he attributed his gusto to the fact that he was very hungry, and she accepted that explanation. However, she did eye him curiously when he went back for a second and then a third helping.

Halfway through Reed's third helping, Travis asked how Jean was doing. Reed froze, his fork poised in midair above his plate as all the color drained from his face.

Hoshi watched him for a minute before taking pity on him and giving Travis a run-down of what had happened during her shift sitting with Jean.

Travis shook his head after hearing all about it. There was an awkward silence at their table until Hoshi left to grab some dessert from the case. After getting a helping for herself, she turned back and called to the guys, "Hey, anyone want some? It's strawberry shortcake tonight. Looks like real whipped cream, too."

Reed flinched slightly at that. Strawberry shortcake was Jean's favorite dessert.

"Sure," Travis grinned, oblivious to Reed's reaction. He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "I know it's weird, but real strawberry shortcake doesn't seem to taste as good as the Nutri-Pak version. Just don't tell Chef I said so." He sat back in his chair, thanking Hoshi when she put the bowl down in front of him.

Reed nodded, forcing some levity into his reply. "Consider my lips sealed."

Hoshi paused before sitting down again and indicated the empty spot in front of Reed. "Don't you want any, Lieutenant?"

He shook his head, smiling faintly at her. "No thank you, Ensign. I've had enough."

He politely begged off from joining them for dessert and left the mess, heading back to his quarters. Hoshi and Travis both wished him a good night and shared looks as the door closed behind him.

"So, is there something going on with them?"

Hoshi shot Travis a sharp look, then forced herself to relax. _So I'm not the only one noticing it_. "I don't know…" she shrugged. "They might just be close friends."

Travis rolled his eyes a little, smiling his big, beaming grin and canting his head to one side. He knew Hoshi well enough to know when she was holding out on him.

She sighed, putting down her spoon and taking a short break from attacking her whipped cream. "Okay. I didn't want to mention it while he was here, but in Sickbay he was pretty… upset."

Travis shrugged, digging in. "Who wouldn't be? That mission…" he shook his head. "It really went wrong. We're lucky we didn't lose anyone."

Hoshi looked at Reed's vacated chair. The man had barely said anything during the meal. "Have you read the mission report?"

"Nope. From what I've heard, though, it got pretty hairy."

"Yeah." Hoshi frowned to herself, remembering the sight of Reed on the verge of tears. "And I don't think we're done feeling the effects of it yet."

After leaving the mess, Reed was just barely aware of forcing himself to make the correct sequence of turns to reach the turbolift before finally arriving at his quarters. He wasted no time getting back into bed and turning off the lights, but once there he couldn't get back to sleep. He'd tossed and turned for a while, wincing whenever he rolled onto a sore spot, before finally, carefully, getting out of bed and finding the hypo spray that Cutler had given him. The medicine Phlox had given him in Sickbay was a painkiller – this one was a mild sedative. He pressed it to his neck, listening to the hiss as the medicine was released into his bloodstream. Moments later his body felt heavy and he put the hypo down on his desk without looking at it again.

_Bed._

He trudged back to his bunk, trying to keep his eyes open along the way as he didn't want to trip over or bump into anything, and never even felt his head hit the pillow.


	16. Waking Up

16

Sickbay, E Deck, 0537 hours, August 18 2151

"What..." her voice was a dry whisper before she broke out, coughing.

Someone helped her sit up a little and put a glass of water to her lips. She took a few grateful sips, swallowing the cool water greedily at first and then in steady gulps, as whoever held the glass didn't seem about to take it away from her. When the water was almost gone, she let her head sink back into the pillow with a softly murmured "thanks."

"Don't mention it."

She opened her eyes at the voice. Everything was hazy, bright. Too bright to tell where the shapes around her ended and people began. She looked around sleepily, squinting and trying to make her eyes focus on him. Trying to focus on the source of the voice. Her eyes finally settled on a large, vaguely person-shaped blur that was hovering next to her bed.

"Reed?"

He eased her back down onto the bed, fluffing her pillow before he pulled his chair closer and sat down again. "No. Sorry t' disappoint ya, but it's just me."

She let her heavy lids fall closed and nodded almost imperceptibly. That southern drawl was recognizable anywhere. "Hey, Trip."

He leaned forward in his chair, smiling gently and feeling around for her hand. "Hey yourself. How are you?"

She shook her head, blinking slowly. "Alive, I guess. Sedated." She tried to smirk, but her muscles were too lax to cooperate. _Correction; __very__ sedated. What does Phlox have me on?_

"Where's Reed?"

Trip laughed quietly. Despite their marked differences, in some ways Jean and Malcolm were just like two peas in a pod. One of those ways was their single-minded concern for each other. "He's in his quarters, prob'ly sleeping."

"Oh."

Trip thought that she didn't just sound tired, but disappointed, too. Disappointed that the lieutenant wasn't there. He twisted his mouth to one side. She should know that he had been there. After all, credit where credit's due, and Reed deserved a fair amount of it, considering how much time the man had spent sitting with her.

"He was sitting with you for a long time, but I took over so he could get some sleep."

She nodded, apparently content with that explanation. She didn't need to know how reluctant Reed had been to leave. What she needed was sleep, and worrying about anything would most likely keep her awake.

"Tell him I said 'hi'."

She murmured to the pillow, nuzzling her face into it as she felt the painkillers tugging her back into unconsciousness. She cracked one eye open partway when the soft, warm weight of a blanket settled over her. Trip smoothed it over her shoulders, smiling when she sighed happily in reaction. He remained standing as he watched her drift back to sleep, a complicated look on his face. According to Phlox she would be alright, given time and plenty of rest, but he was unnerved by how quiet she'd been. No jokes, hardly a smile, and the most she'd said at once had been a paltry seven syllables. Despite the doctor's prognosis and his own normal optimism, he wouldn't be ready to celebrate her recovery until she started acting more like herself.

Once he was sure that she was deeply asleep, he stepped out of the privacy curtains and headed for the comm panel furthest from her bed. He had a message to relay.

"Tucker to Lieutenant Reed."

Even if the man was sleeping, which seemed unlikely, experience had taught Trip that the Armory Officer was a very light sleeper, and if the past few days were any indication, he wouldn't mind answering this call.

The comm crackled quietly for a few seconds, then "Reed here. Go ahead."

Trip looked back over his shoulder at the curtains around her bed, and then, wanting to make sure that his voice wouldn't carry across Sickbay, he rested one arm on the wall above the comm panel and leaned his forehead against it. "She woke up, Malcolm."

Nothing from the other end except what Trip interpreted as a very happy silence. "She wanted me to tell you that she says 'hi'."

A shorter, happier silence, followed by "I'll be right there, sir."

Trip shook his head. _Typical._ "No, Malcolm, you won't. You're banned from Sickbay until oh-nine hundred hours, remember? After that you can join the rotation. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

The reply was surprisingly subdued. Trip had expected the other man to at least argue the point with him. _Well, after a while fatigue and worry will take the fight out of anyone_. He couldn't help sympathizing with Reed. After all, he cared about her too, so he decided to soften the blow.

"She's asleep again, Malcolm, so you wouldn't be able to talk to her anyway. She was only awake for a few minutes and she seemed out of it, but she kept asking about you."

This time the reply came quickly. "She did?"

Trip couldn't help smiling at Reed's surprised, happy tone. "Yeah. When she first woke up she thought that I was you, an' I think she was disappointed to find out I wasn't. I told her you'd been here with her for a while but were gettin' some shuteye. "

There was another pause from the other end, but this time it sounded suspiciously like a badly muffled yawn. "That's pretty much it, Malcolm. I'll see you in a few hours, but in the meantime I think you should try to get some more sleep."

"Alright, suh- sir. Oh-nine hundred sharp. Reed out."

Both men shuffled away from their respective comm panels and back to their former posts; Trip stepped back inside the hanging curtains and Reed trudged over towards his bunk. The lieutenant stood there for a moment, contemplating his pillow and the rumpled blankets before lying down again.

Reed barely remembered getting into bed after returning from the mess, but he was vaguely aware of drifting off to sleep and being relieved – on some level, at least – that he didn't dream at all. He'd been worried that he might have some kind of dream about Jean or the mission or being unable to protect people and failing miserably in his duties to friends and crewmates alike, but instead he drifted in a dark, warm, comforting void. He slept from half past midnight until Trip's call woke him up at about 0550. In the thirty or so hours since the mission had ended, he'd barely managed to get fourteen hours of sleep. Considering his injuries, it was hardly surprising that he was still tired.

Now, though, after signing off from talking to Trip, he suddenly couldn't stand the idea of sleeping any more.

_She's awake, she's alright and she was asking for me! I can't go back to sleep now._

Reed felt like he'd been pumped full of caffeine and realized that he was grinning in a way which most likely made him look like an idiot. He walked over to his bunk with the intention of straightening out the covers. Since he didn't plan on going to bed again until that evening – or perhaps afternoon, depending on how the day went and how adamant Phlox was that he rest – he wanted to start the day with some semblance of normalcy. He hadn't left his bedroom without making his bed since primary school, and he had no intention of sullying that perfect record.

Carefully, he bent down to pull the sheets and blankets into place. Once the bed was finally made, Reed faced the prospect of trying to find a way to spend the next three hours.


	17. Rise and Shine

17

Sickbay, E Deck, 1035 hours, August 18 2151

Reed felt the bed move and lifted his head. For the past hour and a half he'd been sitting in the chair by Jean's bed, his arms crossed upon the soft blankets and using them as a pillow for his head. After Trip woke him at six that morning, he hadn't gone back to sleep, but a few minutes after resuming his post in Sickbay his head had become too heavy to hold up any longer, and he'd rested his forehead on his arms, letting the soft rhythmic beeping of the Sickbay monitors lull him to sleep. Now he glanced over at Jean, hoping that the motion of her bed meant that she was waking up. He wasn't exactly surprised to find that her eyes were still closed and she was in a slightly different position than before. It seemed that she had just been shifting in her sleep. He shook his head, gave a frustrated sigh and put his head down again, prepared to wait it out.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, but it didn't seem too much later that someone was playfully running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey, mister."

Reed's head shot up, his sleepy mind quickly putting the pieces together. He smiled at her, taking hold of the hand she'd been using to play with his hair. "You're awake!"

She winced at his shout, which had been loud enough to disturb some of Phlox's animals, and muttered reproachfully as the various creatures stirred in their cages. "And I'm not deaf…"

His face collapsed into a sheepish expression. "Sorry… How are you feeling?"

She chuckled, patting his hand reassuringly. "Heavily medicated. What did Phlox give me?"

He looked over at the IV bag, trying to read the label without leaving his chair. "_Mo-, mor-_ something, I can't see the rest of the label."

Jean nodded slowly, her face settling into an expression of recognition. "Must be morphine. He's got me on the good stuff. I must be pretty badly hurt…" She closed her eyes and her body relaxed slowly into the mound of pillows propped up behind her.

"Is there water?"

Reed started, looking around for a glass. "Let me check…" He found one off to the side and left his chair to fill it at the sink near the equipment alcove. Halfway to the curtains he paused guiltily and touched her hand. "I'll be right back."

Jean nodded without opening her eyes. "I'll be here."

He let out a quiet snort of laughter. "I wasn't expecting you to run off." While he was filling the glass, he found a good sized metal pitcher near the sink. He filled it up too, bringing it back and setting it down on a rolling cart next to her bed in case she needed a refill later.

She was pouting when he came over with the glass of water. "Not nice to tease someone who's in hospital, Malcolm."

He was amused by her use of the British phrasing and he was about to make a snappy reply, but then he saw her expression. She seemed genuinely hurt by what he had said, and he kicked himself for being so glib. Under normal circumstances, she encouraged him to be playful, but these were hardly normal circumstances. He dutifully held the glass for her—he'd found a straw somewhere—and watched while she sullenly drank her water, hoping that helping her with that could make up for his blunder in a small way.

"I'm sorry, Jean. I thought you were…" he shook his head. It was silly of him to expect her to act like her normal self, considering current circumstances. Badly injured and on painkillers, he should have known that she wouldn't be feeling up to their customary banter. "Never mind. I didn't mean to upset you."

She let go of the straw and her head sank back into the pillow. "S'okay. Just try to be a little nicer to me."

Reed patted her shoulder and reclaimed his seat. "Consider it done." He leaned away and put the glass down next to the pitcher on the rolling cart. She had barely drank half of the water, and he wanted it to be close at hand for the next time she felt thirsty.

For a few minutes, she didn't say anything. Her eyes had drifted closed, and Reed wondered if she had fallen asleep. Trip said that when she woke up earlier that morning, she'd been loopy and hadn't stayed awake long. The loopy part was still true, to an extent, at least, and he reasoned that she probably still wouldn't be able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He resigned himself to the idea that she might not wake up again for at least another hour, so when she spoke a little while later, he was taken by surprise, and what she had to say didn't exactly put him at ease.

"Kiss me." Her voice was low and strained, as well as being throaty with some emotion which he couldn't identify.

He just blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

She seemed amused by his lack of comprehension. "Kiss me, Malcolm."

He glanced around Sickbay self-consciously, trying to work out what she might be thinking. "I—I really don't think that we, I mean, that I should…"

Her eyes were brighter now, more alert than they had seemed so far. A fond smile was starting to curve her lips upward as she stared at him unwaveringly. "I want you to kiss me." She spoke slowly, deliberately, and there was no mistaking her meaning or intention. No chance that he could claim to have misheard her, and since he had already promised to be nicer to her, he assumed that she would consider his refusal to be a violation of that promise. She had quite effectively left him with no means of escape.

He suddenly regretted teaching her how to play chess.

"Jean…" He shook his head, wishing for just a second that she had actually fallen asleep again. "You really want me to?"

She gave a crisp nod. "Yes. I'm…" she sighed tiredly, allowing her cheek to smush into the pillow. "I'm just feeling crappy, and a little affection from someone I care about would really help." She twisted her mouth to one side, a gesture of uncertainty which he found strangely endearing, and watched him expectantly as the last bits of his resolve disintegrated. "Please?"

Reed shook his head slightly while simultaneously trying to fight back a smile. Of all the things she had asked of him, this just might be the strangest, but he couldn't honestly say that he hated the idea. She just wanted a little affection. That was all there was to it, and truthfully, beneath everything else that he had been feeling ever since she was first abducted on their mission, the one emotion which seemed to fuel all of the others was affection for her. It was a deep, undeniable pull of fondness which drew him to her. It made him want to shield her from any kind of harm, to help her fend off sadness or discontent in any way he could, but he just… he hadn't expected anything remotely like _this_ to come up, and it caught him off guard.

"Alright…" he slowly got up from his chair, wincing a bit at the movement. His ribs were still awfully sore, and moving too much or too quickly was quite painful for him. He ended up standing by the head of her bed, gingerly pressing a hand to his side and trying to catch his breath.

"But you should know that I'm only doing this because I want to help you feel better."

She nodded solemnly… or perhaps only with mock-solemnity, he wasn't sure which. In either case, it didn't matter. All that mattered to Reed was that his friend was hurting and she wanted him to help her feel better.

He rested one hand on the side of her bed, bracing himself to lean in. Because of his injured ribs, he wasn't exactly flexible just then, and bending over to kiss someone who was lying down was bound to be very uncomfortable, if not downright painful, so he wasn't precisely looking forward to this next part. He felt a nervous fluttering in his stomach as he got closer to her, and told himself that it was just the pain he was wary of, not the proximity. After all, why should being close to her make him feel nervous?

Reed hovered over her for a moment, unsure of his destination, but after a hurried internal debate, he pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. Her skin felt wonderfully soft and warm beneath his lips, and he was ridiculously pleased when she sighed happily at the contact. Somehow, his other hand, the one not resting on the edge of her bed, had ended up stroking through her hair. He hadn't consciously decided to start doing that, and the intimacy of the gesture caught him by surprise. Jean didn't seem to mind it, though, and she even leaned her head into the touch, but she didn't shift enough to dislodge his lips. A puzzling swirl of emotions answered her reaction, and after about three seconds, he withdrew the hand from her hair and stood up again but didn't straighten completely. Instead, he felt around behind himself until his right hand found part of the chair he'd been using, and then he carefully guided himself into it, glancing over his shoulder a few times to make sure that he had stayed on course. Once he was sitting again, he let out his own happy sigh, despite the fact that his heart was beating much faster than it should.

He cleared his throat nervously, still confused by his own reaction to what had just occurred. "So, *ahem*, did, uhh, did that help?"

She nodded slightly, smiling at him warmly. "Yeah, and it cleared something up, too."

His confusion suddenly had a whole new source. "I beg your pardon?"

'Well," her smile had become mischievous in the past few moments. "A kiss on the cheek is either conciliatory or friendly; something you do to greet a close friend or relative, and one on the lips usually means that you have romantic or sexual feelings towards the person."

Was it Reed's imagination, or did she seem… disappointed when she said that last part?

"And, a kiss to the…" he swallowed nervously, and she almost seemed amused by his unease.

"Forehead?" she answered his unfinished question, smiling slightly, but not unkindly at him.

Reed nodded, shifting self consciously in his seat. He hadn't known that this was a test of some kind. He twisted his fingers together nervously, wondering exactly what kind of game she was playing. His palms were sweaty, and he resisted the urge to wipe them dry.

Jean reached out a hand from beneath the covers, laying it on top of his hands to stop his worried fidgeting. She smiled at him, giving one of his fingers a gentle squeeze. "… kiss to the forehead is reassuring and affectionate but not pushy. It usually means fond and protective feelings, but not expecting to get anything in return."

Reed let out a breath, unaware until just then that he'd been holding it in. "So, you didn't just want some affection, after all. Did you?" He studied her carefully, a little annoyed that she had manipulated him like that. However, he remembered how it had felt, kissing her forehead, the sensation of running his hand through her light brown curls, and his annoyance began slipping away. It had been… nice. Very nice, actually, but he wasn't about to tell her that. The moral high-ground was his, and like any good tactician, he wasn't about to give up his advantage.

She fidgeted slightly, and he had a faint sense of satisfaction that now she was the one feeling on the spot. Her hand dropped away from resting on top of his, and he felt oddly bereft at the loss of contact. "I did, but I also…" She sighed, twisting her mouth to the side again, and he felt guilty for enjoying her unease. "I just wanted to know where we stand, relationship-wise."

He shook his head, letting out a sigh of his own. "You could have told me it was a test."

Jean smiled weakly at him, then closed her eyes with a mumble. "…invalidate the test…"

He smiled ruefully, because really, he knew that she was right. Had he known, he might have done something differently and his response wouldn't have been as honest as it was. Of course, he realized that the way he had been running his hand through her hair bumped up the amount of affection they were dealing with by a considerable amount, but she hadn't made mention of that, perhaps because she didn't think of it. In any case, he was feeling so nervous already that he was very glad she apparently didn't make that connection. He was very fond of her, that much was true, and he didn't expect anything from her beyond friendship. Exactly how fond he was of her, though, and the idea that he might _want _to be more than just her friend had only just begun to dawn on him.

Without really thinking about it, Reed scooted his chair closer to the bed and laid his hand atop part of her arm, gently stroking through the Sickbay blankets. "Rest for a while, Jean," he murmured soothingly. "We don't want you to wear yourself out."

Jean licked her lips, nodding her agreement to his advice. Their conversation seemed to have tired her out considerably, and although her eyes remained closed, she didn't seem ready to fall asleep just yet. She coughed a tiny bit, wincing and going pale, and he surmised that the motion must have pulled at her sutures. She put a hand to her side in much the same way that Reed had been doing ever since the mission, and he frowned worriedly at her when she licked her lips again.

He moved his thumb slightly on her arm, hoping to get her attention. "Thirsty?"

She nodded, sluggishly opening her eyes to look at him. Her gaze was dull and unfocused, and he wondered just how much energy she had used up in the course of talking to him.

He smiled tightly at her, not certain she would even see it since she seemed to have shifted her focus to the ceiling. "One second, Jean." He reached over for the glass and was back, holding it up for her in a few short moments. Reed guided the straw into her mouth, watching as she drained the glass with steady sips. When she was done with it, he put the glass back on the other biobed and then settled into his chair again.

"Huh," she muttered, apparently talking to herself. "That's strange."

Reed looked around, hoping to see what she was reacting to. He didn't have any luck with that. As far as he could tell, nothing had significantly changed in their surroundings. He shook his head slightly, hoping she could explain. "What is strange?"

Her eyes were glazed when she answered, "I'm seeing swirls… colors."

Reed looked up at the hanging curtains, the small metal rings which attached them to a track in the ceiling, and the ceiling itself. Everything belonged to the same off-white, gray and metallic color scheme that he had become accustomed to seeing in Sickbay.

_It's probably the drugs,_ he thought, and his hand reflexively migrated over towards the call button above her bed, fingers hovering near it as he debated with himself whether or not to call Phlox.

"Could it be a side-effect?"

She smiled at him lop-sidedly, her expression sleepy with a hint of curiosity. "Maybe," she shrugged one shoulder. "Never had morphine before…" Jean shook her head, chuckling lightly. "I know they aren't really there, but 'm still seeing them."

Reed frowned to himself. He didn't think that morphine acted as a hallucinogen, but he wasn't about to voice that thought. No need to worry her. However, Jean seemed to already be thinking along the same lines.

"I should probably be alarmed by that, but…"

"But?" Reed prompted, but she didn't respond for a while.

After about a minute, she rolled her head to face Reed better and blinked a few times, apparently trying to make herself more alert. "Sorry, was I saying something?"

Reed shook his head, smiling slightly. "It doesn't matter."

She squeezed his hand, absently playing with one of his fingers as her eyes fell shut. "So, fill me in. What happened on the mission?"

Reed furrowed his brow, fixing her with a confused stare. "Don't you remember?"

She cracked one eye open, giving him a steady look. "Last thing I remember was seeing Rostin about to give Lorrister a beat down."

Both of her eyes suddenly popped open and she stared straight at Reed. "Did I stop him? I think I tried to…" The biomonitors started beeping more rapidly, indicating that her pulse and blood pressure had suddenly increased.

Reed smiled, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. He didn't want to upset her. "Yes, you did, but Rostin wasn't too happy about that. He stabbed you…"

The curtains around her bed parted and Phlox bustled in, admonishing Reed without looking away from the biomonitors. "Lieutenant, I trust that you aren't doing anything to upset my patient."

"Ease off, Phlox," she muttered, sounding annoyed. "He's just telling me what happened."

The doctor turned, smiling down at her. "Ah, I'm glad to see that you're back with us. How are you feeling?"

She chuckled, her face breaking into a silly grin. "High…"

Phlox turned a puzzled frown to Reed, apparently needing clarification. The lieutenant glanced at her worriedly before looking up at Phlox.

"She's seeing swirls of colors in the air. Is that a normal side-effect?"

The doctor bobbed his head in confirmation. "Yes, the opiate analgesic which I have given her can sometimes cause patients to have visual hallucinations, as well as nightmares. Does she seem troubled by what she is seeing?"

Reed glanced over at her and saw that her eyes were closed and she was breathing in a slow, steady rhythm. He still wasn't an expert at interpreting the biomonitors, but as far as he could tell they were indicating that her heart rate had slowed, too. In short, she seemed to have fallen into a peaceful sleep. He smiled to himself at the sight before turning back to Phlox.

"Not especially. She seemed to think it was strange, but she wasn't bothered as much as…" he cast about for a word, remembering her exact reactions to the colors. "She was more amused than anything else."

"I thought that might be the case." Phlox smiled at Reed's questioning look. "The sedative effects of the drug are most likely preventing her from becoming too agitated. If it becomes a problem, that is, if she starts seeing things which distress her, I will decrease her dosage."

Reed felt better knowing that the doctor was taking good care of Jean, but he frowned suddenly. "You said something about nightmares… What about the nightmare she was having earlier, when I was in here before?"

Phlox shrugged in his unique, exaggerated way. "I believe that was due to the psychological trauma she experienced on the mission rather than being drug-based, but we will keep an eye on her, and if she seems to be experiencing any further sleep disruptions, I will most definitely consider using a different medication."

Phlox tipped his head at Reed, regarding him in a most analytical and unnerving way. "Are you quite alright, lieutenant?"

Reed smiled faintly to himself before giving the doctor a slow nod. He noticed that Jean's hand was still clasping his own as she slept. Seeing their joined hands gave him a warm, contented feeling. "Yes, Phlox," he rested his free hand on his side, gently probing the sore area with his fingers to determine how bad it was. A few seconds later his curiosity was answered by the dull throb in his ribs increasing to a brief, bright jolt of pain.

His wince didn't escape Phlox, whose electric blue eyes were still staring fixedly at him. "Perhaps you might consider resting on the adjacent bed, hmm? Being in that chair cannot be too comfortable for your bruised ribs …"

Reed closed his eyes, focusing on trying to steady his breathing, and realized that he had unknowingly tightened his grip on Jean's hand while he was trying to ride out the pain. _I'm becoming far too attached to her. _He felt a flash of guilt and he loosened his grip, worried that his grasp might have accidently hurt her, but he didn't let go of her hand.

He shook his head and looked up at Phlox, hoping that his expression didn't betray any of the pain he was feeling. "If it's all the same to you, doctor, I'd rather stay with her."

Phlox nodded his understanding, flashing a smile at Reed as he moved to duck back into the main part of Sickbay. "As you wish, lieutenant, but if you change your mind, know that you are welcome to lie down on any one of the unoccupied beds."

Reed didn't want to raise his voice and risk waking Jean up from her much-needed rest, so he merely nodded. The doctor beamed at him and then disappeared through the curtains.


	18. Friends

18

Almost four hours later, Reed had two unexpected visitors.

"Malcolm, how is she?"

He turned around in his chair, surprised to see Commander Tucker and Captain Archer standing less than a meter away, just outside the privacy curtain. He hadn't heard anyone come in, but admittedly his attention had been elsewhere. Not wanting to have the conversation so close to Jean's bed, he got up and went over to join the other officers.

"As far as I can tell, sir, her condition hasn't changed much since this morning. She woke up a few hours ago and we spoke for a while." He shifted slightly, deciding that the two other offices didn't need to know about the kissing thing. "At first she wasn't quite herself, but after a little while she became more alert and aware. She didn't remember being stabbed, or anything after that part of the mission, and asked me to fill her in. However, Phlox came in to check on her and she fell asleep while he was there, so I didn't have the opportunity to tell her anything besides how she was injured."

Archer frowned slightly. He saw how nervous Reed was, but he didn't know that the lieutenant was on edge because of his recently-realized feelings towards the ensign. "Is there anything else worth reporting, Mr. Reed?"

Reed started slightly, then swallowed a cold lump of fear, forcing it back down his throat. He didn't want to… he _couldn't _tell the captain about kissing Jean. It was still so fresh in his mind and such a private, special memory. He didn't want to share it with anyone else; especially not if the someone else might reprimand him for fraternizing with a subordinate. Instead, he opted to give voice to a different concern.

"Well, sir, she has had a few… reactions to the pain medication which Phlox is giving her. Most recently, she was hallucinating. Phlox is keeping an eye on it, but to be honest, captain, I'm starting to get worried."

Trip and Archer shared an incredulous look. "Starting?"

Reed chose to ignore their obvious amusement and turned to face Trip, feeling an unaccountable flash of jealousy when he spoke to the engineer.

"Commander, if you don't mind my asking, I'm curious about something you said down on the planet. You and the ensign mentioned having a history, and if you wouldn't mind, I was wondering what you meant..." He had already heard Jean's side of this history months before, but he was interested, if a little wary, about Trip's version of events.

Trip shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and even though Archer stepped in to save his engineer from any embarrassment, he couldn't resist grinning at his friend while he explained.

"Last year there was a bar near downtown San Francisco called the Blue Parrot where Trip and I would go sometimes, usually when the 602 was too crowded. Jean worked there as a waitress, singer, bartender... she did pretty much anything that needed doing. Said it kept her out of trouble. She'd spend a lot of time talking to us whenever we came in and Trip always flirted with her. She always managed to make him look pretty foolish… anyway, he never got anywhere with her, I think because his pickup lines were so awful."

Reed nodded, outwardly acting calm and only mildly curious, but behind his professional façade, he was ridiculously thrilled. He could just picture Commander Tucker's slightly inebriated attempts to flirt with Jean, and her amusing evasive maneuvers. The scene which Archer's description had conjured up was so comical that Reed couldn't stop himself from letting out a quiet chuckle.

Trip crossed his arms indignantly, turning to his captain with a look of wounded pride. "Cap'n, they weren't all _that_ bad."

"Yeah they were, and he still has a crush on me over a year later."

Reed spun around in surprise, barely contained joy spilling across his features at hearing her actually sounding energetic and like herself. He swept aside the curtain in one smooth gesture and was by her side within moments. "Jean! When did... how long have you been awake?"

She shrugged slightly and offered a tired smile. "Just a few minutes. Your conversation was interesting, thought I'd listen in."

Her voice, which she'd managed to raise to almost a normal volume for her first comment, now dropped to a much quieter tone. In fact, the men had to come close to the bed in order to hear her properly.

The captain spoke first, asking her what all three of them were wondering. "How are you feeling?"

She laughed softly to herself, but it was a humorless sound. "Very tired and sore, but I get the feeling it'll be worse when Phlox takes me off the painkillers. Good thing I don't feel like moving, 'cause I doubt I'd get very far even if I wanted to try."

Trip moved to stand on the other side of her bed, directly across from Reed, and he smiled down at her, not noticing that Reed was watching him like a hawk for any signs of more than friendly affection. "We were worried about you."

She gave Trip a knowing look and a weak grin. "Did you really think you could get rid of me this easily? You aren't that lucky, Trip."

He grinned back, leaning one hand on the wall by the head of her bed. "Well, you know what an optimist I am..." Now that she was going to be alright he felt free to tease her. Unfortunately for Trip, she wasn't about to let him get away with it.

"Commander..."

"Yeah, Jean?"

She smirked up at him, giving her nose a mischievous wrinkle. "It's a good thing engineers don't need to have a good bedside manner, 'cause if they did, we'dve blown up months ago."

He laughed and shook his head, glad that she felt good enough to give him a hard time. Still grinning widely, he turned and nudged the captain slightly. "Yep, she's back alright."

With his customary perfect timing, Phlox came through the curtains to stand behind the officers. He cleared his throat slightly, causing the officers to turn around and Jean to crane her neck trying to see him. However, she couldn't see much from her horizontal position, and she had to guess at where he was standing.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure that Ensign Olenick appreciates your concern, but she needs to rest. You as well, Mr. Reed. Your six hour shift is nearly over, and I believe this is as good a time as any for you to depart. I must insist that you all leave now."

"It's alright, mom. They can stay for five more minutes." She raised her voice to a normal volume, but the men could all tell that doing it took a lot out of her.

Archer smiled and patted her arm gently. "We'll get out of Phlox's hair and let you sleep. But if you need anything, all you have to do is ask."

She smiled up at him and nodded. "Thank you, sir. Trip?"

Reed tensed slightly when the commander stepped closer to hear her, since her voice had dropped back down to barely a whisper. "I can't believe there was a faster way to get back to Sickbay and you didn't tell me about it."

"Oh? And what way was that?" His eyes were twinkling as he asked and he had to fight to keep from smiling. _Knowing her, this should be good._

"All I had to do was click my heels three times and say 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home.'"

A sunny smile broke out on Trip's face as he repeated the last bit with her, shaking his head afterwards. "Now how could we both forget about 'the Wizard of Oz'? Sweet dreams, Dorothy. I'll look after Toto for you for a few days."

She smirked tiredly and nodded, but even the effort of doing that was enough to make her head sink back onto the pillow. "Thanks Tin man. Try not to rust."

Trip shook his head once again and quickly kissed her on the forehead, stepping back from her bed afterwards. "Listen ta Phlox. Try to sleep."

Reed bristled at that, even though he knew that the other man was only trying to be reassuring. Trip had a girlfriend and he wasn't the type to stray, but Reed still didn't like to see how easily, how _comfortable _the other man had been with making such an affectionate gesture on the spur of the moment. He hadn't even needed to be prompted. Reed knew that Jean wasn't remotely attracted to Trip, but he also knew that they both had similarly warm and ebullient personalities, while he, in contrast… Reed knew that he was far from being a social butterfly, but Jean had made it clear that she cared about him. In point of fact, she had said quite baldly that she liked him more than she liked Trip, and that she trusted him more.

She trusted him.

Reed closed his eyes. He couldn't tell her how he felt, not least because he wasn't sure what his feelings towards her actually were, apart from fondness. He wanted to kiss her. That much he knew for sure. He cared for her in a way he had never cared about a woman before. She made him feel special, needed, essential. She had seen him at his absolute worst and had never once said anything to him about it which might be construed as unkind. She was, in point of fact, the most extraordinary, intelligent, compassionate and loving person he had ever met.

Telling her any of this was out of the question, of course. She was much too vulnerable right now, too fragile for him – or any man – to try to start a relationship with her. Added to that was the fact that he had recently saved her life. It wasn't that he felt owed for doing that. In fact, since they were such close friends, he felt that by saving her he had done himself a favor, but he worried that if he declared his affections to her now, she might reciprocate out of a sense of duty and not because of any genuine feelings she had for him.

So, he was resolved to just be her friend. He smiled bitterly as Trip and the captain walked to the doors. It stuck him as almost funny that a few short hours ago, having a true friend seemed like the greatest blessing in the world, and that now being limited to having a friendship and not another, more… intimate form of relationship with her seemed unbearably stifling.

Captain Archer and Trip were walking through the doors, but Reed was reluctant to leave; he kept hovering near the curtains around her bed, finding little things to do so he'd seem busy.

Jean smiled at him, taking in at a glance his rumpled clothes, mussed hair and generally unkempt appearance. "So... I forgot to ask earlier. How long have you been here?"

He turned around slowly with a sheepish smile. "Hours."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly skeptical of his claim. "And Phlox hasn't kicked you out yet?"

Another smile and a modest shrug as he came closer to her bed. "The doctor has tried to a few times and he was successful once, with some help from Commander Tucker."

She regarded the curtains thoughtfully before asking another question. "And how long have I been here?"

His smile faded slightly, remembering the endless waiting he had endured, the hours of sitting by her bed and hoping that she would pull through, that she would wake up and smile at him… "Almost two days."

"You didn't have to stay, y'know."

He sat down in his chair again after straightening her blanket. It hadn't actually needed to be straightened; he just wanted to do something useful with his hands. "I wanted to... I had to make sure you'd be alright. Besides, I gave you my word, and I wanted to be here when you woke up."

She blinked sleepily and smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "Well, thanks for watching over me."

He gently lifted her hand, bringing it back to rest next to her hip on the biobed. In the sizeable pause that followed, he saw her tense reflexively and then frown, seeming disappointed about something.

His hand shifted until it rested over hers, it's reassuring weight pressing lightly on her knuckles. He looked at her searchingly, frowning a bit at the traces of distress he read in her face. "Something wrong?"

Her eyes flicked up at him in surprise and then she shook her head slowly, weakly trying to pull her hand away from his. "It's ridiculous."

Reed tightened his hand slightly, enough to keep a hold of her, but he made sure that his touch stayed gentle. "Tell me anyway."

She sent him a desperate, almost pleading look, and he let go of her hand. He felt a bit hurt that she didn't trust him enough to share whatever was bothering her. After all, it had been only a day or so after they met during survival training that he had told her about his aquaphobia, and only a week after that when she rescued him from drowning and helped calm him down from the ensuing panic attack. As far as he was concerned, that had been one of his weakest moments, but circumstances had forced him to be vulnerable in front of her, and she had stepped up admirably, comforting him despite his efforts to push her away.

He smiled to himself, remembering that last part. He had tried to protect himself by keeping his problems to himself, but she had stubbornly refused to let him do it. Now, it was his turn to be the stubborn one and help her, whether she wanted him to or not. All he had to do was let her know that no matter what happened, he would be there for her. No easy feat for a man who wasn't used to showcasing his emotions.

"I promise I won't laugh at you."

Instead of answering right away, she fiddled with part of her blanket. It was a long minute before she said anything.

"I know that I'm safe in Sickbay. Rostin's men are all on Chalderon and the guards can't hurt me anymore, but... I know it doesn't make any kind of sense, but I'm afraid that if I close my eyes they'll come for me, and..."

She hadn't been able to look at him while she spoke, instead staring past him at the curtains, and her voice cracked as she trailed off.

Reed felt his heart soften, even as he clenched his jaw and his hands balled into fists. "Tell me what to do. How can I help?" _Aside from decking those barbaric clots._

She chewed the inside of her lower lip, slowly raising her eyes to meet his.

He realized how strange it was that their usual roles had been reversed. Usually, he was playing the part of the uncooperative patient and she was the one trying to cheer him up. It always seemed so effortless for her, knowing just what to do or to say in order to get him to open up, and he decided to just use one of her lines.

He leaned forward in his chair, resting elbows on his knees and looking at her earnestly. "A friend once told me that trust goes both ways. She was absolutely right."

Her left hand came back out from under the covers. It extended towards him palm up, fingers twitching slightly in an invitation for his hand to join hers. A moment later his hand was holding her smaller one, giving a reassuring squeeze and coupling it with a smile to encourage her.

"I know it's silly, but d'you think you could stay here... just until I fall asleep?"

It was such a simple, innocent request that he couldn't help but smile at her. He squeezed her hand again, noticing how all of her muscles seemed to relax as he nodded his agreement. "No sooner said than done. I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"Thanks." It was a barely audible whisper. She let her eyes close and the tension left her face.

Their companionable silence was very brief as Phlox stepped through the curtains a few moments later and stood on the other side of Jean's bed, glaring at Reed. He practically hissed in annoyance, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb his patient.

"Mr. Reed! I have been more than patient with you for the past few days but there is a limit. She needs to _rest_ and I cannot allow you to stay here keeping her awake any longer. You can come back tomorrow for a short visit if you agree to leave Sickbay at once, but..."

"Phlox... " her voice came out as a quiet croak but both men turned to look at her right away. She licked her lips and blinked drowsily when Reed filled a glass with water from a nearby pitcher and offered it to her, complete with a straw.

She nodded her thanks and put the straw between her lips, taking a few mouthfuls before she tried to speak again.

"He's just staying 'til I fall asleep. We're not talking or anything, promise. I asked him to stay 'cause I wanted some company. Wanted to know someone'd be right here, looking out for me."

Phlox looked at her, seeing his patient but also seeing a woman who'd been through a serious trauma and was seeking friendly comfort. He decided to relent. _After all_, he reasoned _'body and mind must both be cared for if a patient is to recover fully.'_

Having thus convinced himself, Phlox nodded slowly and deliberately. "Very well, lieutenant, you may stay until she's fallen asleep, but I expect you to leave promptly afterwards."

Reed enthusiastically nodded his agreement and smiled more broadly than Phlox had ever seen him do in Sickbay.

"Thank you, doctor. You have my word, I'll leave straightaway."

Jean didn't bother to open her eyes all the way since it would've been far too hard, so she merely cracked a narrow slit to see the doctor. "Thanks, Phlox," she breathed, the words barely audible.

The slit closed when Phlox began to walk away and she conspiratorially whispered to Reed. "You and I really are his 'problem children', aren't we?" There was a hint of laughter in her voice.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, feeling the smoothness of her skin. He found it hard to believe that the small hand which he so easily held in his own had saved his life, and with the same blade that very nearly killed her. Reed sighed, not knowing how – or if – he would be able to content himself with just being her friend.

"Shhh. We can't talk, remember? You need to fall asleep."

"Sleep, right. That sounds good." She pressed her cheek into the pillow, mumbling to herself as she continued to drift off.

A minute or so later a bit of hair came loose and fell across her face, twitching across her cheek and making her fidget. It was obviously annoying her, but she was too asleep to know how to deal with it, so Reed got up from his chair and silently stepped towards her bed. Being careful not to rouse her, he reached across the bed and tucked the hair behind her ear with surprising gentleness.

He didn't move for a few moments, wanting to make sure that he hadn't woken her. When she stayed still, he relaxed, letting out a quiet breath which he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

_Well, she's asleep and I'm standing up already. Best keep my word to Phlox, then._

He took another look, glad to see that she was sleeping peacefully. He gave her hand a final squeeze and then carefully uncurled his fingers from around hers, making sure that she was warm enough before leaving her bedside. He stopped and turned back to her just before he stepped through the privacy curtain, a relieved and affectionate smile drifting across his face.

"Goodnight, Matah Hari."


End file.
